


There's A Golden Sky

by blackmustache



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Football, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Football Player Louis, Football Player Niall, Football Player Zayn, Football | Soccer, M/M, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Omniscient, Paparazzi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmustache/pseuds/blackmustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a star footballer – captain of Manchester City and captain of England. He's always been content to concentrate on his career while he's young and do the love thing later – especially because coming out isn't really an option in his line of work. It's not until an injury rules him out of the European Championships and he has more time on his hands than he knows what to do with that he realises that maybe he's fallen for the team physio, Liam, and just maybe Liam feels the same.</p><p>By the time pre-season is over they're an item, and when it comes to keeping the relationship a secret Louis has help from his agent (Harry) and Zayn and Niall, two of his favourite team-mates. Except the longer it goes on, the more irritated Louis gets with the media and the hiding and all the playing games that the whole thing entails. For the first time in his life, he realises some things in life are more important that football, and his happiness might just be one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's A Golden Sky

**Author's Note:**

> All the thanks to [Shirley](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dessertmeltdown) for making sure I actually got to the end of this; talking me down when I suddenly decided halfway through writing that I hated it, letting me send it to her in tiny bits and pieces (and some slightly longer bits and pieces!), helping me figure out my plot when I felt like I was writing but not going anywhere, and everything else she did.
> 
> Thanks to my Dad, I suppose, for deciding that his only daughter needed to be a football fan and dragging me to matches with him since I was six.
> 
> Finally, thank you SO MUCH to [bandparents](http://bandparents.tumblr.com/) for the fantastic mix she's done [here](http://8tracks.com/florean/you-ll-never-walk-alone)!!

Louis leans back against the tiled wall of the dressing room, letting out a deep breath. He's the only one left, the last one to leave training for the fourth day in a row. He's pushing himself hard, determined to be the fittest he can possibly be. He even went down to spend an hour in the gym and then joined in a game of five-a-side with the under-21 squad yesterday when the rest of the senior players were enjoying a well deserved day off.

Only a few of the first team squad have come back for pre-season training so far – the players who weren't away on international duty over the summer. Usually, Louis would be one of the ones to be granted a few extra days break before reporting back, but not this year. He'd had to sit out the European Championships while he recovered from the hamstring injury that had forced him to miss the end of last season, and Louis is a terribly impatient patient. He'd been grumpy all summer while he sat home alone watching most of England's route to the semi-finals from the comfort of his couch.

He'd managed get a grip long enough to throw a barbecue to watch the Final with his mates. He thought it might be less painful watching that particular match since it wasn't England playing, but he'd just spent the whole time wondering if they'd have made it further if he'd been there.

It hurts more because he knows that he probably would have captained the team in at least one of the matches. The usual captain had collected a pair of yellow cards and was suspended for England's third group game, and Louis is normally the one to take over that job. It's always an honour to lead his country out.

He's trying to shake himself out of his funk now. The tournament is over and his hamstring is healed. It's the start of a brand new season, and that just means that Louis knows he has to work extra hard in training to get back to where he was pre-injury. City had appointed a new manager just two matches before the pulled hamstring had ended Louis' season back in March, and the team had gone on to win their last four games without him. He needs to make sure the boss still sees him as first choice at left back.

He's always been very good at playing the joker and making everybody like him, but that's not the way to win around a new manager. He knows if he wants to keep the captain's armband and make sure his name is still the first one on the team sheet this season he needs to put in the hours and prove he deserves the place. He's lazy at heart, hates the gym and hates early starts but he loves football enough that it balances out.

He grabs his gym bag and stands up, flicking off the lights in the dressing room and wandering away in search of food. It's Wednesday, which means it's sausage and mash day in the canteen – his favourite.

Piling his plate high with potatoes and grabbing a free newspaper from the stand at the door, he takes a seat at an empty table and cranks up his iPod. He flips to the back page to read the sport section first. He doesn't usually pay too much attention to what the papers have to say, but during the close season he can't help but try to keep up with the latest transfer rumours and see how many of them actually come true.

He gets so engrossed in reading an analysis of which positions this particular journalist thinks City need to strengthen (central defence, left midfield, maybe another striker for competition) that he doesn't notice when somebody joins him at the table until his headphones are yanked out by the wire. He looks up, startled, and then relaxes with a smile as he realises it's the team physio in the seat opposite him.

"You shouldn't pay too much attention to those rumour mill things," Liam shakes his head. "You know better than that. They get inside your head."

Louis sighs, folding up the paper and shoving it into his kit bag. "Just curious. Apparently we're in for a new left winger, some kid from the Irish leagues."

"You know what I find even more curious than how some bloke from The Sun who never made it past pub football thinks he knows who we ought to be signing?"

Louis is fairly certain that he knows what Liam's about to say, but he feigns innocence anyway. "What's that?"

"A little birdie tells me you've been putting in extra hours on the training pitch over the last couple of days and yet you haven't been in to see me."

Louis can't help but avoid Liam's eyes, instead focussing on the clock on wall opposite. He and Liam have a long history. When Louis first signed for the club three years ago Liam was already working as an apprentice while he finished his physiotherapy degree. They became pretty close friends over those first couple of years, with Louis rarely injured yet still popping in to Liam's office for a cup of tea outside of their usual chats and injury prevention sessions. It wasn't until the back end of last season that Louis realised he'd been developing a crush on Liam this whole time.

He'd never had a long term injury in his career before, so when he damaged his hamstring in late March he didn't know what to do with himself. He kept badgering Liam to let him do more, insisting he was on the mend and lying about how much pain he was in. Liam didn't fall for a word of it and made it his own mission to keep Louis occupied while he recuperated. Over the first couple of weeks they played cards, talked tactics, drank tea – anything to keep Louis' mind off the fact he wasn't playing and stop him from doing things that would put weight on his leg. Once Louis got rid of his crutches he helped Liam with menial tasks in the office, nothing confidential or medical and he knew to clear out if any of the other boys showed up for appointments or needed treatment.

Slowly – agonisingly slowly from Louis' point of view – Liam started allowing him to do more. First gentle stretches, then more complex ones. Liam would accompany Louis on long walks, and as the days went by they'd go out jogging together. Louis knew that everything Liam was doing was because it was his job to make sure that Louis recovered properly, but he was really enjoying all of the time they were spending together.

By the time the last game of the season rolled around Louis had almost completely recovered. He was back in light training which in his mind meant he was at least fit enough to make the bench. The club doctor and Liam were in cahoots though, and they had other ideas. So after one or two temper tantrums that he'd deny if he was ever asked about them, he gave in and reluctantly settled for watching from the crowd.

The morning of the match Louis had woken up drenched in sweat after the most vivid sex dream he'd had in years. It had started with Liam assisting him with his hamstring exercises. That part was fine. It had deviated from reality somewhat when Liam started helping him with some stretches that he was fairly certain he'd _never_ been flexible enough to do and certainly wasn't at the moment, and ended with Liam fucking him on the physio table.

Louis had watched the match from the corporate seats, wearing his best suit and trying not to perv on Liam whenever he had to run onto the pitch to tend to an injury. He'd gone from not really realising how he felt about Liam to _unable to think of anything else_ in the space of one stupid fucking dream. Literally. When Zayn Malik – star striker and easily Louis' closest friend on the team – had gone down with cramp late on, Louis hadn't even managed to hope that Zayn was okay, he'd just been jealous that he wasn't the one down there having Liam touch him in inappropriate places.

He was wishing _cramp_ on himself for fuck's sake.

He'd waited until after the lap of honour, until most of the team had left for home and then he had cornered Liam as he was locking up his office for the night. He'd thanked him for all of his work over the last few weeks, cheerfully told him how much better he was feeling and how much he was looking forward to the rest. The fact he hadn't been called up to the England squad was a bonus, really, he explained, and then he turned and headed for his taxi before Liam could muster anything more than a "right, yeah. See you in July," at the back of Louis' head.

Louis had been hoping that pulling away from Liam might stop the crush from developing further. He needs it to not develop any further, but if the last two months are anything to go by, well. His plan failed.

It certainly hasn't stopped the dreams.

"I've been following the recovery plan and checking in with Graham," Louis tries to defend himself, dragging his mind out of his thoughts and back to the conversation at hand. Graham, Liam's assistant, wasn't exactly blessed with Liam's good looks and Louis had just thought that avoiding Liam for a few more days might be a good idea. "It's not like I've missed any appointments with you – I just haven't had time to pop in."

Liam rolls his eyes at that. "I know you've been seeing Graham, who do you think it was that told me how much you're pushing yourself? I just know what you're like. You'll think you're fine, you'll do too much, and you'll end up with another injury." Liam is trying to put on his sternest face, Louis can tell. It's kind of working. "The manager won't be pleased if you damage your hamstring again in training and miss the start of the season. You might find your place isn't just guaranteed to be waiting for you if you're not fit again until Christmas."

Louis sighs and looks shifty, poking at his remaining mash with his fork. He's suddenly lost his appetite anyway. "Sorry."

"Just come and see me this afternoon and I'll say no more about it."

"I don't think this afternoon will work for me, I've got to do an interview for the website and then I thought I'd go back to the gym for an hour."

"After what you've just eaten? I don't think _that's_ a good idea."

"Charming."

"Louis, if you don't show up at my office within the next hour, I'm going to make you have an extra ice bath in front of everybody after the first night match of the season. And you know you hate the evening ice baths the most."

Louis wrinkles his nose in frustration. Liam's right. He's pretty sure there's nothing in the world he hates more than an ice bath. "Fine. I'll come." He drops his fork down onto his plate. He's determined to at least get part of this on his own terms. "It might not be in the next hour but it will be today. Okay?"

"Yeah. Good." Liam nods, satisfied. "If we need to make any changes to what you're doing in training it's best that we know about it now, before the rest of the lads come back next week. And definitely before we get to Italy for the training camp."

"Everything feels fine, Liam."

"Then you've got nothing to worry about." Liam pauses, choosing to change the subject now that Louis has at least agreed to come and see him. It's a step in the right direction. "So how's your summer been? Coped okay not being in France with the England boys?"

Louis shrugs. "You're the physio, not a shrink, Liam."

Liam rolls his eyes. "I'm asking as your mate, not as a club employee."

Before Louis can answer, a group of men walk into the room, talking loudly as they walk through the canteen. Louis recognises four of the five – the manager, two board members and the club secretary. The fifth is a lot younger and looks familiar, he's just not sure why. "Who's that?" He mutters to Liam.

"That's Niall. New partner down the left for you, the 'kid from the Irish leagues'," Liam repeats the comment Louis had made from earlier, tapping at the newspaper where it's poking out of his bag. When Louis looks down, there's a picture of Niall's face staring back up at them. "He's booked in for his medical later."

"Oh."

Liam looks at his watch. "I should probably go, I've got things to get ready before we go up to the hospital this afternoon." Standing, he nods his head in Niall's direction. "You should go and introduce yourself. Make us look desirable, captain."

–

Niall flies through his medical, but thanks to too much paperwork and a few extra scans that the club are insisting on due to a knee injury from five years ago, it's almost eight when Liam makes it back to the training ground. He knows that Louis will be long gone by now – there might be a note stuck to the door if he's lucky, but more likely Louis will have knocked (quietly) once, and legged it when he realised Liam's car wasn't in the car park.

Liam's always been a pretty straightforward guy. He knows that he likes Louis and he's fairly certain Louis likes him back, so if he had his way he'd just come right out and kiss him. There's just a lot of obstacles when it comes to Louis. It would be completely unprofessional, for one, and as Louis isn't likely to be coming out any time soon Liam decided a long time ago just to concentrate on being friends.

So he's pretty surprised when he comes around the corner to see Louis sitting on the floor outside his office, fast asleep. Stopping in his tracks, Liam rearranges the stack of papers in his arms so that he has a hand free to fish his phone out of his pocket and switches it to the camera. Louis has one leg curled underneath him, his head is tipped right back against the door, his mouth wide open and because of the angle, he's snoring a little. The only way this could possibly have made better blackmail material – for those occasions when Louis is avoiding him again – would be if there was drool, but this will definitely do.

After checking the picture is clear enough Liam tip-toes closer to the door, trying to get as close as he can to Louis without waking him up. When he's finally standing beside him he lifts his foot and gently kicks at Louis' thigh. "Wake up, idiot."

Jerking awake, Louis looks around him and tries to get his bearings. When he finally looks up at Liam and realises where he is, Liam laughs, offering Louis a hand which Louis accepts and scrambles to his feet. Still carrying Niall's medical files under one arm, Liam unlocks the office door with his free hand and just as he twists the handle Louis stumbles. "Fuck," he mumbles groggily. "Dead foot." As Louis hops into the room behind Liam, Liam finally sets down the stupid stack of papers on his desk and slings an arm around Louis' waist, helping him across the room and dropping him into an examination chair. As he does, Liam realises he might have made the biggest mistake of his life, taking that photo of Louis outside of the office.

Because he really, _really_ should have been videoing this.

"That's what you get for falling asleep sitting on your leg," Liam smirks. "You won't do that again. How long have you been out there, anyway?"

"An hour, I think? Maybe?" Louis checks his watch, choosing to ignore the smug tone in Liam's voice in favour of just answering the question. "Where've you been?" The last half of the word is a yawn and Liam can't help but laugh as Louis stretches out on the chair, lifting his feet up on to the leg rests and letting his eyelids flutter shut.

Liam lets Louis doze in the chair while he moves around the office, locking Niall's files away safely and flicking the kettle on to boil. Quickly fixing two mugs of coffee, he moves them a safe distance away from Louis in case of any accidental flailing, and leans down to flick him on the ear. "Here. Caffeine. Just don't tell the manager."

Louis opens one eye and squints at Liam and then over at the coffee, pushing himself back upright in the chair and holding out his hands for Liam to pass the mug. "I'd rather have tea, but thanks."

"How's your foot?"

Louis shakes it gingerly and scrunches up his face. "Pins and needles now." He lifts his foot and waggles it in Liam's general direction. "Massage?"

Liam laughs and shakes his head, jumping up onto the massage table opposite the chair Louis is in before reaching over to the desk for his coffee. "I'm a professional physiotherapist, Tommo. Not your personal massage parlour." He lets his legs swing freely over the side of the table. "Get up and walk around if you want the feeling back."

Louis pouts and goes to take a mouthful of his coffee, stopping to sniff it and pulling a face as he gets it close to his nose. "Instant?"

Liam rolls his eyes. "I know you prefer your coffee brewed properly when you're forced to drink it but I don't have a coffee machine and I'm out of teabags so it's this or nothing." He takes a drink from his own cup. "Besides, you ought to make the best of it while you can. I wasn't kidding when I said don't tell the gaffer – I've seen the dietary restrictions list for this season. It's not pretty."

"Dare I ask?" Louis decides to go ahead and drink the coffee. It's bitter and nasty but it'll have to do.

"No coffee, no Coke, no ice in your drinks," Liam ticks off on his fingers. "No ketchup, no mayonnai-"

"No _ketchup_ ," Louis screeches. "The man's a lunatic."

"A lunatic who gets results. And pays your wages," Liam reminds him.

"He doesn't pay my wages, the club does," Louis argues feebly. "No ketchup. It a barbaric situation, Li."

"Calm down. I'm fairly certain he's not going to come and raid your cupboards. Just stick to the rules in the canteen and at squad dinners and you'll probably be fine."

"I love ketchup," Louis mutters and Liam snorts, draining the last of his coffee. "Here, I'm done with this," Louis hands his own half-drunk cup back to Liam. "I should be getting off. Early start tomorrow."

Liam quickly rinses the cups out in the sink in the corner, drying his hands and turning back to Louis while still holding the towel. "Let me give you a lift."

"My car's here, that would be silly. How will I get here tomorrow?"

"I'll pick you up." Liam starts to move around the office, grabbing his keys and jacket and making sure he's unplugged his Tesco Value kettle from the wall. He doesn't trust it not to boil itself overnight and set the place on fire. "You were asleep five minutes ago and you've got a dead foot, it'll be safer if I drive."

"Foot's mostly alive again now," Louis mutters, but without much force behind it. Liam opens the door and stands aside for Louis to leave first and then turns back to lock up. They walk out to the car park in silence and Louis starts to laugh when he sees that Liam has parked in a disabled space to be nearer the door. "Cheater!"

"Oh like anybody cares at this time of night," Liam defends himself and pushes the button to unlock the car so that he can dump his coat in the boot. Louis has obviously decided against arguing any further and is already buckling himself into the passenger seat when Liam gets in.

The journey is quiet; Liam's got Absolute 80s tuned in on the radio and he's humming along as he drives. Louis spends the time scrolling through Twitter and replying to a couple of messages from supporters while he has a few spare minutes. Just as he's about to shove his phone back in his jeans pocket, it buzzes with a new text message and he sees it's from Harry.

_Got some club business tmrw morning. Lunch?_

Louis has known Harry since he was ten and Harry was eight. Separately, they'd both convinced their mums to drive them to Stockport for an open football trial for under 11s and they'd been paired up for one of the mini games. The difference between them was obvious to the staff – Louis had actual talent as a footballer and Harry just liked to think he did. Despite that, they became best friends that day and it's been that way ever since.

On the back of that trial, Louis was scouted by Doncaster and signed for their academy two months after the open day. Harry didn't receive any offers, but it didn't really bother him and instead he was always on the sidelines cheering Louis on. The day that Louis signed his professional contract with Doncaster when he was 17, Harry confessed to him that he'd really quite like to be an agent. Louis spent his days at training and his nights on the phone to Harry, helping him study for his A-Levels, and then his degree alongside his FIFA accreditation. He's been Louis' agent for four years now and Louis still thinks it's one of the best decisions he's ever made, hiring Harry instead of the guy that had been appointed to him by the club when he was a junior.

If it hadn't been for Harry, he probably would have turned down City's approach to sign him after he helped Donny win the league cup. Harry was the one that had convinced him that if he was determined to wait for Man United to sign him then he would probably end up spending his whole career at Doncaster. "You can't just turn down a top four club because you _hope_ that one day United might come along, Lou," he'd said. "You have to put your allegiances aside when it's your job." And he'd been right, of course. Harry's bloody annoying like that.

_Yep, gimme a ring when you're finished your high-falutin business dealz. :)_

Liam slows down as he approaches Louis' house and pulls up into the driveway. Louis has a nice big house, but not too big and certainly not show-off-y. Liam's never been inside before but he's made it as far as the door once or twice and he always gets the impression that the house seems warm and friendly – much more friendly than Liam's own house, which he tends to spend as little time in as possible. He'd actually intended to go house-hunting over the summer, to look for something a little bit more homey and _him_ , but he just hadn't got around to it.

Liam snaps out of his thoughts to see Louis staring at him expectantly and realises he must have asked a him question. "Hmm?"

"I said," Louis sighs impatiently. "Do you want to come in? Grab a beer, watch the golf? Twitter's going mental, apparently Justin Rose is having a shocker."

Liam can't help but smile, bright and wide. Louis actually inviting him to hang out, just the two of them? That's something he can't possibly turn down. "Sounds great."

Louis grins back at him and climbs out of the car, slamming the door closed and skipping up to his front door to unlock it before Liam has even turned the engine off. By the time Liam approaches the open front door Louis is nowhere in sight. Stepping inside and closing it behind him, Liam kicks off his shoes and lines them up neatly against the wall underneath the coat rack – Louis doesn't exactly strike him as a 'no shoes on the carpets' kind of guy, but it's only polite in somebody else's house.

"In here," Louis calls from somewhere to Liam's right, and Liam follows the voice. He passes through the lounge – where Sky Sports News is already blaring out from the TV – and into the kitchen. Louis has just flung open the fridge when Liam enters the room, and he looks over his shoulder with a grin. "What do you fancy? I've got Carling, Carlsberg, Fosters... I think there's some Stella in here somewhere too."

"Are you running a bar in here or something?" Liam queries, watching in amusement as Louis removes a block of cheese and does indeed find a stray can of Stella Artois hiding in the back. "Also, when I said they probably wouldn't go through your cupboards to check you were sticking to the diet, I didn't expect to find your fridge has only got beer and cheese in it. I might have to report back."

"There's not just beer and cheese," Louis pouts, pulling out the four pack of Carlsberg and not giving Liam any say in the matter as punishment. "There's leftover takeaway and some beans."

"Right." Liam takes one of the cans from Louis and tugs on the ring pull. "Explain to me how that's better?"

"Oh calm down, I'm having a clear out this weekend. Promise. Tesco delivery is already ordered for Saturday and there's vegetables on the list and everything. This is just the remnants of my summer of European Championships-less misery." He flashes Liam a grin and Liam suddenly wishes he'd popped in uninvited over the summer, check Louis was doing okay. He's got Harry, obviously, but... that is one depressing fridge.

Louis turns back to the cupboards and bends down to rummage around, and Liam concentrates on trying not to stare at his bum while he does it. "Thai Sweet Chilli Sensations or Chilli Heat Wave Doritos?" Louis stands back up, brandishing two packets of crisps.

"So it's basically chilli or chilli?"

"Yep." Louis looks down at the bags in his hands. "You're right. I'll bring both."

That isn't really what Liam meant, but he watches anyway as Louis empties both bags into one bowl and then picks up his own unopened beer and points Liam back in the direction of the lounge.

By the time they're settled on the couch things have apparently progressed further in the golf. Louis isn't sure exactly _how_ they've progressed, because he actually kind of hates golf and he's not entirely sure how he got himself into this.

His legs are up on the couch, curled slightly so that they're not invading Liam's space at the other end. He sets his beer down on the carpet and fishes in his pocket for his phone, pulling it out and texting Harry.

_Tell me about golf._

While he waits for Harry's reply, he sneaks a look at Liam. Liam looks completely engrossed in what's on the telly, which confuses Louis even more because there's literally nothing happening right now. It's just some people walking along grass.

It's not too long before his phone buzzes in reply.

_Why? You hate golf. Playing golf is okay, but watching golf is shit. Go to bed._

Damnit. Harry plays golf when he's schmoozing clients all the time, Louis had been counting on him. Distracted by his phone while he starts to tap out a reply, Louis stretches his legs out further on the couch and it's not until his toes touch against Liam's thigh that he realises what he's doing. He freezes, and Liam freezes too, although Liam's eyes stay carefully trained on the goddamn golf.

Louis carries on staring down at his phone, trying to sneak glances at Liam without moving his head. He can see a faint blush appearing on Liam's cheeks and one time he thinks he's caught Liam sneaking glances back at him as well. That's when he decides to push things a little further, testing Liam out. He straightens his legs all the way, burrowing his toes between the underside of Liam's thighs and the couch cushions.

He definitely catches Liam try to look at him this time, although Liam is apparently playing the same game and isn't moving his head either. And then in one swift move, Liam reaches down, slides his hand under Louis' feet and lifts them up, plonking them down in his own lap. He slowly starts to massage the sole of one foot with his thumb and he does all of this without taking his eyes off the bloody golf.

"Liam," Louis starts. He's not really sure what he's going to say next. _Are you actually watching the golf? I like you? Kiss me?_

"Yeah?"

"I thought you weren't my personal massage parlour," is what comes out. Liam starts to laugh and finally, _finally_ looks away from the television.

Liam says "I'm not," at the same time as Louis blurts out "I fucking hate golf," and then that's it, they're both laughing. Louis' phone slides off his chest and onto the floor, knocking over the beer and Louis doesn't even care that there's going to be a stain on the carpet. He'll probably just move the settee to hide it.

Neither of them are really sure what's so funny but it suddenly doesn't seem like such a big leap when Louis reaches over and grabs a fistful of Liam's club t-shirt and uses it to pull Liam closer. One of the questions Louis had discarded not two minutes earlier comes tumbling out of his mouth without him being able to do anything to stop it. "Kiss me?"

Liam doesn't need to be asked twice.

–

The morning after turns out to be kind of a shambles, all things considered. Liam wakes up, in Louis' bed, with Louis' arms wrapped around him and Louis' legs tangled with his own, to the sound of Harry's voice. It's somewhat disconcerting.

"LOUIS," Harry bellows, from somewhere that sounds like it's a lot closer than Liam is comfortable with. "Are you up?"

Liam rolls onto his back and turns his head to look at Louis, who is already looking back at him with a smile. "Morning," Louis whispers.

"Has he got a key?!"

Louis nods. "Maybe he'll just go away."

Liam's spent enough time with Harry to know that's really not very likely so he slowly wriggles down the bed, until his feet are almost down at the bottom of the mattress. He knows they're both on the same page about this. Whether this is a one off or the start of something more, they don't need to talk about it to know they're both agreed that they need to keep things between them quiet. At least for now.

Laughing to himself, Louis pulls the duvet up further so that Liam's head is covered, just as Harry bursts into the bedroom. "Oh. You're not up."

"Late night," he fakes a yawn. "Thought I'd go in late today. Schedule's a bit flexible til the rest of the lads are back on Monday."

"Oh right," Harry smirks. "You were _watching the golf_."

Louis just nods. "Yep. Golf."

"And how was it?" Harry's got that look on his face that always worries Louis. It usually happens when Harry's up to something. "The golf."

"Fine," Louis starts, and then yelps as Liam's fingers brush against his calf. If he could get away with kicking him without Harry being even more suspicious, he totally would. "Sudden cramp," he finishes lamely, wondering when his life became something out of a Carry On film. "Late night gym session before the. Um. Golf."

"Right." Harry snorts. "Cramp. You ought to get Liam to look at that."

"Yep," Louis squeaks. He wonders if Liam's even got enough air down there.

"Anyway," Harry grins. "I've got a meeting at half nine so I thought I'd see if you wanted a lift, but you're obviously _busy_ ," Harry puts weird emphasis on the word busy and Louis gets that feeling again. "So I'll just go without you."

"Probably a good idea," Louis agrees. "I'll see you for lunch, like we said."

Harry nods and turns to leave, pulling the bedroom door almost closed behind him before flinging it open again, yelling "See ya, Liam!" and then thundering away down the stairs.

Liam stays so still under the duvet, even after Harry is obviously gone, that Louis has to lift it up to check he hasn't stopped breathing or something. "He's gone." He knows he should probably be more concerned that he didn't manage to keep Liam secret for even twenty-four hours, but it's Harry. He was always going to tell Harry.

"Fuck." Liam breathes, crawling back up towards Louis and collapsing beside him against the pillows. "How did he know?"

Louis laughs. "At a guess? Your car is outside, your shoes are downstairs, and your t-shirt's on the floor over there. With your initials on it."

"Oh."

"It's okay," Louis smiles, leaning over to capture Liam's lips in a kiss. "Harry won't tell."

At first Liam is surprised that Louis isn't having more of a freak-out about them being discovered. After all, he's the one with more to lose. If word gets out that Liam likes guys, it's pretty bad for his career but it's recoverable. Worst case scenario would be moving to a different sport, private therapy maybe, something not quite as close to his perfect job as what he has now, but it won't be the end of everything.

For Louis, though, his career in England would be pretty much over. At the very least the media interest would be unbearable, and football fans aren't exactly known for their sensitivity and understanding. The day when it might be possible is definitely coming closer; players are coming out only months after retirement now instead of never. But a line has been drawn in the sand and the first player who scrubs that line out is just asking for their life to be changed forever. There’s a reason there have been no openly gay professional footballers in this country and Liam’s always been certain that reason was not that no footballers have been gay.

But when he takes a second to reflect he realises that Harry is probably the best person to have in the loop about this. Apart from the fact that Louis is his best friend and he would never do anything to hurt him, Louis is Harry's client. Keeping their secret is in Harry's best interests professionally as well as personally.

Liam's always quite liked Harry.

Liam rolls over and presses Louis into the bed with a grin. "We should go to work."

"We could do that," Louis agrees. "Ooorrr...." he trails off, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Liam's laugh is more of a gurgle and he buries his head in Louis' shoulder for a minute and then pushes himself up. "Nope. Sorry. If I let you take advantage of me again-"

"Hey!" Louis interrupts, smacking Liam in the shoulder. "That's not how I remember it."

Liam carries on laughing as he stands up and looks for his boxers, pulling them on and trying not to look back at the bed where he just _knows_ Louis is sprawled out, trying to tempt him back under the covers. "You plied me with beer and golf," Liam teases. "And-"

"Golf is the shittest aphrodisiac ever!" Louis exclaims, sitting up. "I can't believe it worked."

Liam is pulling on his t-shirt now, and Louis is right, it does have his initials embroidered onto it. Which means he can't even borrow a clean one from Louis – he can't turn up at work wearing a shirt with _L.T._ on it. "My house next time. I'm the only one with a key."

Unable to stop himself from grinning at the mention of _next time_ , Louis finally gets out of bed and starts to move around the room, rummaging through drawers and pulling out items of clothing while he's still completely naked. Liam bites his knuckle, leaning against the window with a smile.

"Cocky, aren't you?"

Louis grins even wider and looks down at himself and then back up at Liam, nodding decisively. "Yes, I am rather."

The thing is, he's not normally quite so brazen. Actually, forget normally, he's _never_ like this. Louis knows he's fit, obviously, both athletic-fit and attractive-fit but he doesn't really do sex or even kissing, never mind standing around in front of another man while he's got no clothes on. _A man whose dick was in your mouth last night_ his brain helpfully supplies, as if that makes a difference somehow. It's just that there's something about Liam that makes him feel safe and comfortable and like maybe he doesn't have to choose between his career or his love life, which is the way he's always played it before.

Whatever it is, he's got this wonderful feeling of freedom running through him this morning and he doesn't want it to go away.

Liam rolls his eyes at the reply Louis gave but he's smiling too much to think of a witty comeback. Instead he moves to leave the room, pinching Louis' bum with a grin as he walks past. "I'll make us some coffee while you get ready."

By the time Liam has figured out how to turn on Louis' ridiculously complicated coffee machine, Louis is ready.

"Did you buy this from Starbucks or something? Like, is it the one they actually use in the shop?" Liam demands, waving a travel mug in Louis' face as he enters the kitchen. "I could have been to the Costa down the road and paid somebody else to make it for me in the time it's taken me to turn this thing on."

"Just because I don't buy my coffee from the pound shop like you do," Louis laughs, pushing past Liam and flicking various switches. "I actually have no idea how this thing works. It was a gift from Zayn and Perrie when I moved in, you'd think they'd have realised I mostly drink tea after I lived in their house for six months."

"You'd think."

Still though, they manage to figure the machine out between them while Louis makes tea for himself. "In a teapot, not a mug. We're not animals, Liam," he lectures. Liam wants to argue back about it being extra washing up to use a teapot when the tea is only for Louis, but he doesn't bother.

Before long the kitchen smells of coffee and Louis fills a mug, handing it to Liam. Liam's hand is already on the front door handle when Louis tugs him back and kisses him. "Wanted to do that before we go outside. You never know if there's a photographer hiding in the bushes."

Liam raises an eyebrow as he turns back towards the door. "Next time we're _definitely_ doing this at my house."

The drive to the training ground passes quickly in a much more comfortable silence than the one the night before had been. Louis rests his hand on Liam's thigh and every now and then Liam sneaks a glance and a smile which Louis returns.

It's all lovely until they pull into the grounds of the training complex and there are photographers everywhere. Louis pulls his hand off Liam's thigh as if it's been burnt and Liam's jaw tightens in concern. A few flashes go off as Liam drives the car past the throng, but when most of them don't even turn around Louis suddenly realises that the press isn't there for them.

Liam catches a flash of a blue kit and a scarf being waved and he realises. "Niall's meeting the press today," Liam mumbles. "The paperwork must have all gone through."

"Fuck," Louis breathes as Liam pulls into his usual parking space – not the disabled one he'd snagged last night – and stares straight ahead through the windscreen. "I thought-"

"I know." Liam nods. They're at the back of the building now, away from all of the photographers and the crowds but his heart is still beating faster than he would like. "Your kitbag's in your car. Go and get it out while I open up my office and then come and find me."

"I'm fine."

"I know."

"I might not be if you try to make me another cup of that sludge you call coffee."

Liam huffs out a laugh and he's relieved Louis is able to joke about it. "Still, though. I want to check over your last set of scans on the hamstring and the programme you've been working to over the summer. Strictly professional, I swear."

"Boring," Louis jokes lightly, and Liam laughs again.

"Get out of my car."

"Yes, Payno." Liam watches as Louis climbs out of the car and jogs over to his own. He can't help but bang the back of his head against the headrest in frustration – he knew this wasn't going to be easy but he didn't expect to have that kind of a scare quite so soon.

When he gets into his office he heads straight for the drawer with his spare tracksuits in it. He occasionally takes advantage of the gym and he finds it handy to keep a few changes of clothes so that he doesn't have to drive home sweaty. He closes the office door and pulls off yesterday's t-shirt and yesterday's tracksuit bottoms and he's standing there in just his boxers when there's a knock at the door.

"Just a minute," he shouts out, but Louis bursts in anyway.

"Well hello," Louis grins, leaning back against the door until it clicks shut and then reaching to flick the lock, something Liam probably should have thought of before he started getting changed. "Ready for me I see!"

"Very funny," Liam laughs, reaching for a clean shirt from the drawer. Louis immediately bats it out of his hand and starts to pull off his own shirt too. Liam thinks about resisting for approximately half a second before reaching out and grabbing Louis around the waist, pulling him in close. He's got a fistful of Louis' shirt in one hand, preventing Louis from getting it off just yet. Their lips are just about touching when there's a loud bang at the door, as somebody tries the handle.

"Liam?" A voice calls from outside. "Are you in? It's Zayn."

"Shit," Liam hisses, jumping away from Louis and hastily pulling on a clean pair of trousers while Louis just smirks and hops up onto the treatment table.

"Liam?" Zayn calls again, knocking this time. "Payno?"

"What are you doing?" Liam looks over at Louis, sitting on the treatment table and swinging his legs nonchalantly over the side. "Hide!"

"I'm not hiding!"

"I hid in your bed this morning!"

"I didn't ask you to do that." Louis teases and Liam sighs, realising that Louis both has a point, and isn't going to move. "I'm allowed to be here, you know." He points at his leg. "Hamstring, remember? He's not going to suspect anything."

Liam nods. Right. Work. He quickly checks that they both look fully dressed and then goes to unlock the door, grinning as Zayn launches himself onto Liam for a hug. "Good to see you, man! Good summer?"

"Yeah. Not as good as yours though. Spectacular goal against Belgium, mate." Liam nods and lets go of Zayn, who spots Louis sitting on the table and goes over to hug him too.

"Thanks. Just wish we could have made it to the final." Zayn looks over at Louis. "Would have done if we'd had Tommo there, I reckon."

Louis shrugs and looks away. He's just about over missing the tournament but he's ready for the new season now. He's done looking back. "Anyway," Louis changes the subject. "Wasn't expecting to see you until Monday."

"Yeah," Zayn shrugs, scratching at the back of his neck. "Perrie's off on tour so the house is too quiet. Thought I'd come in." He pauses. "Plus I went out for a run yesterday and I felt a bit of a twinge," he reaches down and rubs the back of his calf. "Thought I'd come and get it checked out before Monday."

"Right," Liam nods. "Louis?"

Louis nods too, jumping down from the treatment table. "It's all yours," he gestures towards it and smiles at Zayn.

Zayn holds his hands up. "I can come back later if you two are busy. Like I said, it's just a twinge."

"No, let's get it checked out now in case there's a problem. Tommo and I were just catching up."

Louis nods and grabs his kitbag from where he'd dropped it by the door, patting Zayn on the shoulder. "Don't let him make you a coffee," he whispers. "It's foul."

Liam exclaims "Hey!" at the same time as Zayn laughs "Noted." Just as Louis is almost at the door Zayn reaches out and hooks a finger in the waistband of Louis' tracksuit bottoms and tugs him back into the room. "Harry's here, by the way. Said if I saw you, I had to tell you his meeting's been pushed back to this afternoon so he's at a loose end if you want to give him a ring."

Zayn is another of Harry's clients. He'd been at City for a couple of years already when Louis signed. The scouts had picked him out and signed him straight from the Bradford City youth team before he'd even made his first team debut for his hometown club. When Louis arrived Zayn was still working with the agent that he'd been with at Bradford, but after spending six months on the team together and hanging out outside of work Louis knew that Zayn didn't really trust the guy. Not long term anyway. Zayn had gotten to know Harry a little through spending time with Louis and when Louis suggested Harry sign Zayn as a client too, Zayn had jumped at the chance. That was the thing that really kickstarted Harry's career. Now he juggles a number of top players – with Louis and Zayn always his main priority – and Louis couldn't be prouder of the way things have worked out for his mate.

"Cheers," Louis fishes in his pocket for his phone. "Do you know what his meeting's about? I forgot to ask."

Zayn nods. "Yeah – I think he's after getting that Niall kid on his books. His Dad's his agent at the moment, apparently, and he's not keen on relocating from Ireland. Harry says he seems like a good lad."

"Left winger then, yeah?" Louis queries, and Zayn nods. "Should go introduce myself to him I suppose. Maybe talk Harry up a bit."

"I told you to do that yesterday," Liam half-scolds, but there's a smile in his eyes.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Where's he come from again?"

"Shamrock Rovers, I think," Zayn replies, pushing himself up onto the treatment table while he talks. He swivels around and lies back, hands under his head.

"Don't be racist, Zayn," Louis teases. "Next you'll be telling me he played for Leprechauns United before that."

"No," Liam interrupts. "He really did play for Shamrock Rovers."

"That's never a real team," Louis protests, and Liam bursts out laughing.

"Not only is it a real team, we played them in pre-season the year before last. Your memory is _shocking_ , Tommo."

Louis thinks for a minute, trying to remember. There was definitely a pre-season in Ireland and now that he thinks about it, he might have had the exact same reaction when he'd heard the team name back then too. But there'd been an awful lot of Guinness on that trip, he couldn't be expected to remember every little detail.

Instead he shrugs and then beams at Liam. "I remember the important things," he laughs, taking advantage of the way Zayn is lying on the table with his back to the door to blow a kiss in Liam's direction before turning and heading off to find either Niall or Harry, whichever one he comes across first.

__

He ends up in the gym instead. There's no official organised training session for the senior players this morning, although those who have already reported back are expected to show their faces at some point. The boss is tied up accompanying Niall to press conferences and photo shoots and when that's done he passes Niall off to the club secretary while he goes and holes up in his office to try and make some headway on more new signings.

Louis is just hitting his stride on the treadmill, headphones in and music cranked up loud, when there's a thump behind him that makes him almost jump out of his skin. He doesn't get the opportunity to turn around and see what it is before Harry's arms are around his waist and the pair of them come flying backwards off the machine in a bundle of limbs. The crashing noise draws the attention of some of the youth team who are gathered by the weights in the corner, but they see it's Louis and pretend they haven't noticed.

Out of breath, Louis lies on the ground for a minute before pulling himself up to his knees, and then to his feet, and then he kicks Harry who is still lying on the floor. "What the hell!"

Harry shrugs, still making no effort to move. "I said your name twice and you didn't hear me."

"There are other ways to get my attention, you idiot." He grabs his towel and water bottle from the side of the treadmill and steps over Harry, heading for the exercise bikes instead. "Ways that don't involve potentially breaking the neck of your best client."

Harry pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks around. "Zayn's here?" He smiles sweetly at Louis who just shakes his head and chucks his towel at Harry. His aim is perfect and it lands flat on Harry's face, who instantly scrambles to claw it off. "Urgh, Louis! Sweaty!"

"Serves you right." Louis eyes the small group gathered in the corner and the couple of other people in the gym as he starts to gather some speed on the bike. "If you've come to talk about what I think you've come to talk about-"

"No," interjects Harry quickly. "No, that's not a discussion for here."

Louis nods, staring straight ahead at the mirror wall in front of him. "Good."

"Although," Harry grins, giving him a thumbs up and then wandering over to the bike, leaning on the handles and meeting Louis' eyes in the mirror. "Since you brought it up – good for you, mate. It's been too long."

"I _will_ throw the water bottle at your head next and you'll think you got off lightly with the sweat rag."

"Gross." Harry sighs, but before he can say anything else his phone starts to ring. "One second." He raises a finger, instantly businesslike, and Louis rolls his eyes, taking the opportunity to put one of his earbuds back in. He doesn't risk both of them this time.

He tunes out Harry's conversation and concentrates on the bike's information screen. He's pleased with himself really, he's back to his old pre-injury resistance and his speeds are pretty good too. And as much as Liam had warned him about pushing himself, he's feeling strong and ready to play.

Harry's frowning when he gets off the phone and Louis is glad the focus has moved off his sex life so quickly, although he's not stupid enough to think that he won't still be getting the third degree later.

"Problem?" He asks, pushing a couple of buttons on the bike and starting his warm down.

"Not exactly," Harry shrugs. "They want Zayn to turn on the Christmas lights in Bradford."

"It's June!" Louis exclaims, and ducks as Harry tries to throw the towel back at his head.

"Not _now_ , moron. November. It's just a booking enquiry."

"Oh." Louis copies Harry's frown. "No, sorry love, you've lost me. I don't understand which part is a problem. As far as I'm aware Zayn isn't allergic to tacky lights or winter."

Harry sighs. "It's nothing really, it's just they're asking about the possibility of Zayn and Perrie _both_ being there. It complicates things a bit because it means I have to involve her management too."

"Ah." Louis knows that Zayn and Perrie rarely do public engagements like that together. She's adamant that she doesn't want to be known as a WAG, so usually the only times they book appearances together are if she's there as a part of the band, and not as Zayn's wife.

Louis loves Perrie, has done since long before she was his mate, although he sort of wishes he'd never told her that he voted for Little Mix on X Factor because she still teases him about it every now and again. He remembers the night she met Zayn, which is probably a bit weird considering he didn't know either of them at the time. Louis was still playing for Doncaster then and even though he had his own flat, it was sort of a tradition that if they'd had a home game he'd go round his mum's after the match to have tea and watch X Factor with his sisters. Zayn had been a guest on the Xtra Factor panel after the movie week show and when he'd been asked who he thought would win, Zayn had chosen Little Mix with no hesitation whatsoever. The girls had been down the other end of the studio waiting for their own interview and when Caroline asked him which one he fancied, he'd turned to look at them and answered "Perrie, definitely," with a shy smile.

Perrie and Zayn had been dating for almost a year when Louis joined City. Despite the fact that they'd only recently moved in together, they'd still invited Louis to live with them until he found his own place in Manchester. He'd tried to decline, but they'd turned up at his hotel room, Zayn with a stack of boxes and Perrie holding three steaming cups of coffee and dragged him back to their place and refused to let him leave.

Harry, Zayn and Perrie are the only people outside of his family – and two ex-boyfriends from sixth form that he trusts enough to keep his secret – who know that he's gay. Harry was a given, since he'd been beside Louis through all of his teenage years and had figured it out almost before Louis did. He'd never intended to tell Perrie, but somehow she'd just _known_. One night when Zayn was out with some old friends from school, the two of them had been sitting on the sofa eating ice cream and watching a late night repeat of a Dancing on Ice tour show. Louis had just been about to comment on Hayley Tamaddon's new Bolero routine and Perrie had just come right out with it. "So, you like boys then?"

Being asked that question was his biggest fear, really. Because he'd made a deal with himself a long time ago about not lying. If he was ever asked he'd answer truthfully. Luckily Perrie didn't need an answer, she'd just seen it in his eyes and smiled, digging her spoon back into the ice cream and admitting she'd always had a crush on Christopher Dean. Louis had smiled back, a bit weakly, and said "Yeah. Me too."

He'd tried asking her not to tell Zayn but she'd shaken her head at him, defiant about this one thing. "Sorry babe," she'd told him, looking genuinely sad about it. "But we don't do secrets, me and him."

Louis had nodded, mumbling about understanding completely and secretly plotting to climb out of the guest bedroom window and run away to Doncaster first thing in the morning, never to be seen again. But Perrie had poked his ankle with her toe and smiled at him. "He won't tell," she'd insisted. "He's the most loyal, trustworthy person I've ever met."

Turns out she was right, and Louis had repeated those words (without context of course) as part of his best man speech at their wedding a year ago.

And now there's Liam. Another person on the very short list of people who have the power to ruin his life in one sentence, and the first one from his adult life who's there because Louis wanted him to be. It's a new feeling and now that Louis is a little detached from the high of last night and this morning, he realises it's going to take a little getting used to.

"Oi," Harry's voice breaks into his thoughts and he waves a hand between Louis' face and the mirror. "I said, I'm going to go and find Zayn. See what he thinks before I even consider approaching Perrie."

Louis snorts a laugh. "You say 'approaching Perrie' like she's some kind of scary diva, not the girl you had an epic Twister death match with last week."

"Yeah, well," Harry shrugs and draws an imaginary circle around his face with his finger. "See this? This is my business face."

"Looks a lot like your normal face to me."

Harry grins and stands up straighter, preening. "Gorgeous, you mean?"

"Just go and find your favourite client already!" Louis exclaims in mock frustration as he finally brings the bike to a stop and jumps off. "I'm going to take a shower. Zayn was in with Liam last time I saw him."

He manages to tune out Harry's hissed teasing comments about _of course you'd know what Liam's up to_ and heads off towards the shower room. He's not expecting there to be anybody else in there yet, so it's a surprise when he flings open the door and finds Niall sitting on a bench in the middle of the room.

"Um," he starts. "Hi. Niall, right?"

Niall looks up, apparently just as surprised as Louis that somebody else is there. "Hi."

Louis grins at him and steps forward, hand outstretched. "I'm Louis Tomlinson-" he starts, and Niall interrupts before Louis can even get his whole name out.

"I know. I mean – yeah. I know. You're the captain."

Louis nods and dumps his bag down on the bench, rooting through it and looking for his shampoo. "So Niall." He finds the shampoo tucked in a side pocket and pulls out a clean towel too. "Just hanging out in the showers because...?"

"Hiding," Niall admits, simply. "It's all a bit overwhelming and I didn't think anybody would be here. They told me there's no training today."

Louis nods, because Niall's got a fair point and he remembers that first day himself. "Well Niall, as much as you probably want to, you can't stay here all day. Let me jump in the shower and then I'll take you down to the canteen."

Niall perks up instantly. "Lunch?"

Louis laughs. "Yeah. Lunch." He takes a couple of steps towards the wall that hides the showers themselves from the rest of the room and then turns back towards his bag, checking the opposite pocket to the one he'd found his shampoo in. His hand closes around the Mars Bar he'd known was in there somewhere and he grins as he throws it at Niall. "Here."

He heads behind the wall before stripping down to his boxers. He wouldn't normally care – there's no privacy in the dressing room, ever – but it felt weird when Niall was just sitting there doing nothing and they'd only just met. He throws his clothes back out towards his bag before hitting the button and letting the spray wash over him.

"So I hear you're thinking about signing with Harry," he calls out over the sound of the water.

"Wha?" Niall shouts back, his voice muffled in a way that Louis knows means he's got a mouth full of chocolate.

"I said," he pokes his head around the wall and sees that he's right about the chocolate. "Harry Styles?"

"Oh, yeah," Niall nods as Louis steps back under the spray. "He seems cool and my dad lives too far away now to keep on as my agent."

"He's my agent too," Louis adds, squirting some shampoo into his hand. "Harry, that is, not your dad. In fact, I was his first client. Known him since I was ten. Socially he's a total liability, but I'd recommend him professionally any day. That's why he's Zayn's agent too."

"Right," Niall shouts back. It sounds like he's finished the chocolate now. "Zayn Malik yeah? Sounds good to me. We're having a meeting this afternoon, so."

Louis rinses the soap out of his hair and turns off the water, wrapping his towel around his waist and stepping out back into the main area of the changing room. "One time he tried to insert a clause into my contract saying I had to go to karaoke with him any time he wanted, but luckily I spotted it before I signed." He bites his lip and grabs his clothes, ducking back behind the wall for some privacy. "I'm pretty sure he'd only do that to me, though."

Louis thinks he probably shouldn't have said that, and starts thinking about Harry's good points so that he can really sell the idea to Niall over lunch, but when he's finished getting dressed and comes back out into the open he sees Niall is laughing. "Sounds like a right laugh, then."

"Yep," Louis agrees, stuffing everything back into his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. "Now come on, let's go get something to eat before you get forced to do another photoshoot waving a scarf or holding a ball."

"Aye aye, captain," Niall grins, following Louis out of the door.

–

One of Liam's favourite things about his job is how unpredictable it is. He never has two days the same. Even on a matchday when the basic routine doesn't change, everything hinges on different players needing different treatment and on occasion there'll be a post-match trip to the hospital.

The summer is the only time he ever gets close to being bored at work. He'll normally take a couple of weeks off but then he'll come back, and without any players around it's a struggle to stay motivated. When he only has admin work, occasional meetings or medicals with potential new signings to keep him occupied he finds himself easily distracted.

It means that when the players start coming back in for pre-season training he's itching to go and gets obsessed with preparing everything he possibly can before the crazy really hits. After Louis leaves his office in the morning, he spends a good couple of hours checking out Zayn's leg and then accompanies him down to the pool. He's ninety-nine percent certain that Zayn's twinge yesterday was nothing, but he wants to keep an eye on it and organises for Zayn to have a couple of scans to check. Zayn is a reluctant swimmer at the best of times but he's improved lately under Liam's watch, so Liam is keen to take advantage of the empty pool and get Zayn to swim instead of run today.

By mid afternoon the scans are done and the results come back confirming that everything is fine. He instructs Zayn to go home for the day and come back on Monday refreshed and ready to train before heading back to his own office. It's mid-afternoon and he hasn't even had time to think about eating so he grabs a sandwich from the vending machine and gets back to work on the pile of admin he wants to get out of the way.

He starts by rubbing off the remains of last season's player information from the giant white board that takes up almost the whole of one wall and starts transferring their names and health updates in squad number order. The official numbers won't be decided and released until much closer to the start of the season so he's having to guess, and he knows he'll end up re-writing the whole thing when the list comes out but it will do for now.

He reaches Louis at number three and smiles as he writes up the status _Fully recovered from hamstring tear_ in the notes section. He pauses, and then adds _monitor closely_ with a little smiley face beside it, and that's definitely 80/20 professional concern versus just wanting excuses to see Louis in his office.

He marks up the rest of the players. He's sure that Zayn will keep his number ten shirt and he's guessing that as a left winger Niall will probably be given number eleven. By the time the board is full and everything that he needs for now is up there, it's almost midnight. His handwriting always is terrible anyway but towards the bottom of the board it's almost completely illegible as well as totally wonky. He got so bored towards the end that the last few players have just got little symbols beside them instead of words – he's going to have to redo those later. He sighs, recapping his board marker and gathering up his things. It will do for now.

His phone is in his jacket and he'd forgotten all about it until he puts his coat back on to leave and feels the weight of it in his pocket. Quickly checking it, he has two texts from Louis, one just before 5.30 and one half an hour later.

_Are you heading home any time soon?_  
 _I'll take that as a no. :) Don't work too hard._

As he'd kind of expected, that day ends up being nothing compared with the following week. With all of the players back in training, the days are long and loud. Most days Liam arrives at work before seven in the morning and doesn't make it back home until ten or eleven at night – just about giving him time to eat and shower before bed and then doing it all again the next day.

He sees Louis at training each morning but there's barely time to say hello, let alone anything else. By Friday he's completely shattered and he's glad that today's training is going to mostly consist of them splitting into two teams and actually playing a game, to put into practice everything they've been working on during the week. He's expected to be present, as he always is when the players are training, but it's not as intense for him as it is when they're concentrating on fitness and conditioning. This is more about tactics, and that's the manager's domain.

He's leaning against the fence holding on to a net full of spare balls when he feels a yawn bubbling up quicker than he can get a hand free to cover it. He tries to bury his face in his elbow and when he looks up, Louis is standing in the middle of the pitch smiling at him. It's a split second thing, when their eyes meet, and then the ball lands at Louis' feet and he's off on a run, skipping over the ball and back-heeling it to Niall. Niall crosses to Zayn, who has no problems putting it in the back of the net and Liam thinks – not for the first time this week – that the three of them are going to be creating a lot of goals this season. Niall and Louis already seem to have developed the kind of psychic partnership the team's been crying out for on the left, and things are looking good.

Louis is subbed not long after that, and the manager shuffles some things around on the pitch to try out a more attacking formation. It's only the first week of training which means a lot of trial and error and-

"Tired?" Louis interrupts Liam's thoughts. Liam hadn't even seen him walk over here.

"You know what the first week's always like," Liam responds, and it's not really an answer but it's enough for Louis.

"Fuck yeah," Louis laughs, slowly moving a step to the left so that his shoulder is pressed up against Liam's. "I thought I'd been keeping my general fitness up over the summer but by the end of Monday I wanted to throw up and die. Not necessarily in that order."

Liam frowns. "That's not normal, you know. You should have told me. You've had longer off than everyone else so you need to-"

"God, I was exaggerating, Payno," Louis laughs. "Hyperbole. I talked to the other lads. I promise I was no more exhausted than the fittest of them all." He gently shoves at Liam with his shoulder. "You look tired though. Don't think I haven't noticed your car's in the car park every morning when I arrive and it's still there when I go home."

Liam shrugs. "Part of the job."

Now it's Louis' turn to frown. "Yes, but you have to sleep too."

"On Wednesday, I'd just got into bed when my phone rang. It was Johnno, and do you know what he wanted?" Liam waits for Louis to shakes his head and then continues. "He was in Asda and wanted to know if he's allowed to drink Lemsip. I had to tell him to back away from the cold and flu aisle and go home. Then I drove to his house with things he could take that aren't on the banned substance list just to make sure he didn't accidentally end up with a drugs ban."

Louis groans. "Johnno's an idiot. Everybody knows you can't risk Lemsip."

"Yeah," Liam grins. "He's an idiot, but he's an idiot who also happens to be a fantastic goalkeeper and things like that are actually part of my job. I'm never not on call, so I'm used to surviving on no sleep."

"He’s probably been kicked in the head one too many times. You have to be a psycho to be a keeper."

"I think brave is how they usually describe it."

"Yep. Also known as psycho." Louis crosses his arms defiantly. "Anyway, next time I see your car in the car park after nine at night, I'm coming in to drag you home to bed." Liam just laughs at that, and Louis rolls his eyes as Liam smiles suggestively at him. "No, Liam. To actual bed. No sexy funtimes for you until you've had some sleep."

"Spoilsport."

"Yeah well," Louis teases. "I don't want you falling asleep halfway through. I'm a footballer. I've got a massive ego and something like that would just crush it."

Liam opens his mouth to respond just as the manager shouts at Louis and calls him back on to the pitch, sending one of the other lads off in his place. That was less awkward than he'd expected considering it was the first conversation they've had all week. He covers another yawn and promises himself that he'll try to get away at least on time tonight.

When Louis drives out of the car park at the end of the day, he smiles when he sees that Liam's space is already empty.

–

Liam spends the weekend doing nothing much in particular. It's rare for him to get much time to himself once the players are back in training, so he's quite excited when he gets two whole days uninterrupted by players calling to ask him about flu remedies or diet pills or hay fever tablets. He gets up late, goes out running, falls asleep in the garden with a book on his face and his phone doesn't ring once.

He has such a nice relaxed weekend that he thinks packing for the pre-season training camp can wait, and it's already dark on Sunday evening when he realises he hasn't washed any of his clothes. He dumps them all in the washing machine and falls asleep on the sofa, waking up long enough to transfer them to the tumble dryer before making his way up to bed. Screw the ironing. If anything looks too crumpled to wear, he can do it in the hotel when he gets there.

Which is how he finds himself stumbling around in the dark at three o'clock in the morning on Monday trying to get his suitcase packed and get to the airport in time for the team flight to Italy that leaves at seven.

When his doorbell rings, his immediate instinct is to panic. The only people he can think of who ring doorbells at this time of night are the police coming to inform you of some kind of horrific incident that can't possibly wait until morning. His fingers are actually shaking by the time he makes it downstairs and yanks at the door to find Louis standing on the doorstep, grinning at him. "Oh, so you do own some clothes that aren't the club training gear. I thought it was all you had."

Liam's standing on the doorstep in bare feet, his pyjama bottoms and an old Bruce Springsteen tour t-shirt with holes in it, and all he can think of to say is "you fucker, I thought you were the police."

Louis frowns. "Should I be? Have you committed a murder?" He pushes the door open further and steps into Liam's porch. "Is that why you haven't got any lights on, because you're trying to go on the run?" Louis doesn't wait for Liam to answer before he reaches past Liam's head and flicks on the lights, and Liam squeezes his eyes shut.

"Bright."

Louis snorts and pushes Liam further into his own house, closing the front door and turning on even more lights. "Yes, they do tend to be. In fact that's sort of their purpose."

Liam rolls his eyes. He's tired, he's confused, and he's not even halfway packed. Most of the clothes he washed have been dumped straight from the drier into his suitcase and there's not a lot of space for anything else. "Why are you here?" He knows that sounded a little sharp, but it's an inhuman time to be awake. He's allowed to be a little bit of a jerk.

Louis shrugs and ignores Liam's tone, surveying the carnage and then turning back to Liam. "My taxi was coming past your place anyway so I got him to stop off. I left my stuff in the boot and he's coming back for us both at four. Saves on airport parking for you." Louis crouches down by Liam's suitcase and starts pulling things out. Liam clears his throat to protest but Louis is pushing him back up the stairs. "Shower. I'll take care of this."

Liam starts to feel more awake almost as soon as he steps under the spray, the mixture of the heat of the water and the mint of his shower gel making sure he doesn't just lean against the wall and doze off again. The longer he stands under there the more confused he gets about why Louis is even here, and by the time he gets out he's ready to ask why.

He dries off and gets dressed as quickly as he can, ignoring Louis' comments from earlier and pulling on a clean pair of trackie bottoms and a club t-shirt. It's not until he gets back into the kitchen that he notices Louis is wearing club gear too, so he's hardly one to talk.

Louis looks up as Liam walks back into the room and grins when he sees what Liam's wearing, but before he has a chance to comment, Liam's blurting out "What are you doing here?"

Louis frowns. "I told you."

"I mean," Liam tries to get his words in order before they come out of his mouth this time. He might be a little more awake now but he's still not feeling particularly eloquent. "What are you doing? What are _we_ doing?" Liam pauses, and Louis is still just frowning so Liam presses on. "We slept together once and then we had one conversation in a _week_ and now you're sitting on my kitchen floor folding my pants at twenty five to four in the morning and I'm just a bit confused."

Louis stares at Liam for a minute, long enough that Liam feels a bit uncomfortable that neither of them is speaking, and then something hardens in Louis' eyes as he stands up. "Right," he starts, dropping the pair of Liam's boxers he'd been rolling up back into the suitcase. "Of course. I shouldn't have assumed – I'll just-" he stands up and walks straight past Liam in the direction of the front door. Liam follows him without even thinking, and he's close enough to Louis that when Louis spins around to say something else, he stands on Liam's foot.

"Fuck," Liam breathes, hopping backwards.

"Sorry, I-" Louis reaches out, looking genuinely sorry for about half a second, and then he pulls back when he remembers that he's mad. "I don't do that kind of thing." His words are quite clipped, more carefully pronounced than Liam's ever heard from him before, including when he's being interviewed at press conferences and he's trying to sound posh. "I don't sleep with people if I'm not interested in something more, because there's too much risk for me. It's not worth the worry that somebody might sell a story or let something slip. So I just don't. You were the first in a long time."

"Louis," Liam starts, curling his toes and trying to ignore the throbbing. It'll go away in a minute and talking to Louis is more important, but Louis just talks over the top before Liam can say anything else.

"I know it's been a busy week but I thought you'd understand, because you've been just as busy." He folds his arms tight against his chest and Liam feels even worse because behind the cold glare there's this hurt look in Louis' eyes that he put there and he really didn't mean to. "I can assume that you won't tell anybody? You wouldn't want to risk your own career even if you're not bothered about mine."

Liam takes advantage of the fact Louis is now actually waiting for him to speak and steps forward, tugging at Louis' wrists until his arms fall down by his sides. Since his mouth seems to be letting him down tonight when he uses it for words, he decides to do something else with it and moves even closer to Louis, his hands circled loosely around Louis' wrists.

He feels Louis tense up right before their lips meet and for a second Liam genuinely thinks Louis is just going to step back and walk away, but then he starts to kiss back and Liam sighs against Louis' mouth, relieved. When the kiss ends, Liam leans his forehead against Louis' and smiles. "I never said I didn't want something more," he mumbles against Louis' mouth. "I just thought we ought to have a conversation before I started assuming you're, you know. My boyfriend."

"Oh," Louis breathes, and Liam's glad he at least has the decency to look a little bit embarrassed. "Does me yelling at you count as having a conversation?"

Liam smiles and kisses Louis again. "Yeah, I think it does." He rubs his thumb against the inside of Louis' wrist and then turns to look at his open suitcase. "You've got some packing to finish."

Louis punches Liam in the shoulder with a grin. "No, no. You go right ahead."

Liam pouts but drops to his knees beside the case and starts shoving his things back into it. He's not going to bother folding stuff – they still haven't been ironed, so what's the point? Louis moves to stand behind him, his knees pressing against Liam's back and his hands rubbing at Liam's shoulders which would be very distracting even if Liam had been a person who is usually good at packing.

"Honestly," Louis sighs eventually, kneeling down carefully beside Liam and pulling things back out of the suitcase. "You're like a child." He starts with Liam's t-shirts, rolling them carefully and packing them neatly, and by the time he's finished there's actually space left in the case for Liam to grab some books and some clothes that aren't from the Man City training range.

Their taxi has only been waiting outside for five minutes by the time Louis is done, and he takes Liam's things out to the car while Liam switches off all of the lights that Louis turned on and makes sure everything is locked up.

They arrive at the airport in the middle of a rush of players in taxis or with wives willing to drop them off, and nobody notices they've arrived together. They check in with the club's liaison officer, who in turn takes care of their flight check in and bag drop. By the time they're done Zayn is the only one who hasn't arrived, and that's no surprise to anyone.

Liam's on his way back from the toilet when he sees a familiar car pull up at the drop-off point, and a mop of curly hair bounces round from the driver's side. He gestures to Louis, who is busy demonstrating something tactical with his fingers on the palm of Niall's hand, and heads out to greet Harry just as he flings open the passenger door.

"Zayn, wake _up_ ," Harry's saying, and Liam laughs to himself at how frustrated Harry sounds. "I'm your agent. Not your fucking babysitter."

"That means it's your job to make sure he doesn't get another late fine, I think," calls Louis from somewhere behind Liam, and Harry turns around and glares at Louis.

"I give up. I can't wait until Perrie is back from tour and this," he waves his hand wildly in Zayn's direction. "Won't be my problem any more." Zayn still isn't making any moves to get out of the car.

"Perrie likes sleep too," Zayn mumbles, stretching and finally opening his eyes. It's a start.

"Yes," Harry nods, grabbing Zayn by the wrist. "But she's also quite happy to drive you to training in her pyjamas and then go back home where she can have the whole bed to herself. That particular benefit doesn’t really apply to me." Zayn resists Harry's attempts to pull him out of the car, and eventually Harry sighs and turns to look at Louis with pleading eyes.

Louis sighs and nods. He knows at this point Zayn is mostly being awkward because it annoys Harry and that's always funny, but really they probably ought to get inside. "Zayn mate," Louis announces. "I've already been asked to have my picture taken with fans three times since we got here, it might be six in the morning but time works differently in airports so there's already loads of them around. You don't want them coming out and accosting you while you're asleep in the front seat of Harry's car, do you?"

That works a treat. Zayn's up and out of the car before Harry can even get his bag out of the boot, and when Harry dumps the bag at Zayn's feet Zayn is crouching beside the car door, checking his hair still looks okay in the wing mirror. Harry gives Louis a double thumbs up and then gets back in the car, starting up the engine and then winding down the window. He leans across and shouts, "Zayn! I forgot. Do you wanna go on Strictly? You've had an offer."

"Do I bollocks!" Zayn shouts back. "I'm a footballer, not a dancer."

"I'll do it!" Louis pokes his head in the window of Harry's car. "Why do I never get offers to do the fun shit like turn the Christmas lights on in Doncaster or go on Masterchef?"

"Maybe you do and I just turn them down for you without saying anything," Harry smiles sweetly and then follows it up by poking his tongue out.

"But-" starts Louis, pouting. Harry's winding up the window while Louis' head is still shoved through it, but Louis isn't budging. He suspects Harry really would go all the way and let "Tomlinson Decapitated by Electric Window: Football World In Mourning" be the headline on every newspaper tomorrow, but he's still going to try to see how far it gets.

"I'm just prettier, that's all mate," Zayn calls out from where he's signing an autograph by the door, and Louis pulls his head out of the window and spins around to glare instead.

Harry cheers in triumph from inside the car and shouts out "see you all later!" through the tiny bit of window that's still open, and drives off before any of them can get another word in.

"I just want to dance," Louis pouts. "Dance with me, Niall!"

He attempts to grab Niall's hands and waltz around the pavement outside the airport, but Niall dodges out of the way, holding his breakfast above his head. "Watch the food!"

"I can't believe you're having a Cornish pasty for breakfast," Liam sighs, shaking his head as he traipses behind Louis.

"Look," Niall starts, pointing his pasty at Liam to emphasise each word, bits of pastry flaking off each time he waves it around a bit more. "It's not even six in the morning and there are people in there who are drinking. There are people who are _drunk_ and are on their third or fourth pint. We're on airport time now, it's like a wormhole and it's considered acceptable. But since I'm here representing the club and I'm not going to get a beer, if I want to have beef and potato and onion encased in delicious golden pastry, then I'm bloody well going to." His cheeks go a bit pink, slightly embarrassed at his Cornish pasty rant. "I mean... yeah."

Liam stares at Niall for a minute and then nods once, accepting this, before turning back to face Louis. "I bet you'd be great on Strictly," he supplies helpfully, poking Louis in the cheek.

"Thanks, Payno," Louis grins, trying to bite Liam's finger as he pulls it away. He slings his arm around Liam's neck and follows Zayn and Niall as they head inside the airport. Liam's good at this bit – the banter with all the players as a group. It's when he's one-on-one that he sometimes gets a little bit accidentally serious, because so often he's only alone with them because of injuries which means it actually _is_ serious. "You know," Louis carries on when the others are far enough ahead they can't hear. "I'm looking forward to some 'dancing' with you while we're away. Italy's dead romantic."

Liam can feel his cheeks going a bit red and he wishes they'd stop. "Yep," he deadpans. "So romantic, you in your room with Niall and me in mine with Graham." Liam always rooms with Graham on away trips, it just makes sense since their work schedule is basically exactly the same. And Louis has already been told he'll be sharing with Niall this time, because as the captain he has to look after the new boy – though if you ask Liam, Niall’s just about the last person to need a babysitter.

It's mostly fine, though, because Niall is a laugh and there won't be much time for anything else anyway.

"No, it's fine," Louis whispers conspiratorially. "I've got Niall figured out. I'll just bribe him with money for food and make him go out for a couple of hours on a night."

"I don't think-" Liam starts, but doesn't get to finish his thought as Louis is dragged off by Niall towards where Zayn is crouched down beside a little girl who looks about four.

"She wants a picture with us," Niall grins, and Liam really doubts that it was the girl's idea considering her Dad looks way more interested in talking to Zayn than she does. Still, Louis agrees instantly and steps forward, swooping her up into his arms and standing between Niall and Zayn while the bloke takes a picture and then looks over at Liam with a hopeful face.

"Want me to take one with you in?" Liam offers, because he knows how this works. He waits while the man pretends that no, really, he couldn't possibly be such a bother, and then Zayn insists, and it's a ridiculous charade but by the end of it the man is clearly thrilled and the little girl looks like she might cry because she's being detached from Louis and she seems quite taken with his face.

Liam can't really blame her.

Eventually the liaison officer gets all of them issued with boarding passes and through security, and by the time Liam makes it to the gate after stopping at Costa, somebody has produced a ball from their hand luggage and there's an impromptu kickabout happening. He barely avoids having his coffee knocked out of his hand. He thinks about trying to stop them because if anybody gets hurt there are going to be all sorts of insurance issues, but that really isn't his job. Instead he just sits in the corner away from the mayhem until they're called to board. It's a charter flight taking them direct to Verona and once they're all on board and seated Liam feels like he can properly relax.

It's nice, having the plane to themselves. Most of the players go straight to sleep after take-off, and Liam isn't far behind them. It's already been a long day for him considering it's still only a little after seven, and he's quite glad Louis is sitting up at the front playing cards with Zayn leaving Liam to just doze off at the back without thinking about anything.

He jerks awake when he feels a hand on his shoulder and he blinks a few times. Louis is standing in the aisle smiling down at him and Liam tips his head right back against the seat and smiles too. Louis' thumb is rubbing gently against the skin where Liam's t-shirt sleeve has bunched up a bit and it's so soothing that Liam closes his eyes again. He hears Louis laugh quietly and feels him squeeze at Liam's shoulder a little, and then Liam hears the toilet door open and a voice says "Alright, Tommo. Bog's all yours."

And then the hand is gone, Liam's shoulder's a bit cold and he falls asleep again until the address system crackles into life and the flight crew announce their descent into Verona.

After they check in to the hotel everybody has a bit of time to themselves before the first training session of the week. Liam knows what the manager's got planned and he feels like maybe he should warn some of the players – warn Louis – that it's going to be a tough couple of hours. It's not just going to be an easy afternoon of jogging about in the sunshine which he has a feeling is what most of them are expecting.

He doesn't though. And when he's standing at the side of the pitch watching the session he finds himself unable to take his eyes off Louis and realises he made the right decision not to say anything. Louis looks amazing out there – he's giving absolutely everything, running for every stray ball even if he has no chance of getting to it. He's clearly determined to prove he's come back from his injury better than he was before and his obvious competitive streak the hottest thing Liam's ever seen. It helps that Louis is sweating and shirtless and breathing heavily. Liam would never tell Louis for fear of inflating his ego even more, but watching him gets Liam so turned on that he goes straight from the training session up to his room so that he can take care of himself in the shower.

The first evening meal of the week is always a mandatory team bonding session; the manager, his assistant and the other coaches stay away and leave the lads to get on with it. It's a bit of a baptism of fire for the new signings but it's tradition and it works. A couple of the members of the backroom staff always stick around though, and Liam is one of them. It's important that everybody likes him and trusts him so he's always included in the plans.

"Right lads," Louis announces, climbing onto his chair once they've finished the main course. Liam winces and wishes he was sitting closer so that he could hold the chair down. Louis is rubbing his hands together gleefully and Liam knows what's coming next. "As I'm sure you all know, tonight's the night our new boys are each going to sing a song for us."

Liam has no idea where this tradition started, but he knows City aren't the only club who do it. It's nerve-wracking for the ones singing but the reaction from the other players is almost always positive because they all remember only too well what it was like when they had to do it. None of them would dare mock their team-mates provided they actually do get up and sing. The worst teasing he's seen came last summer when one poor lad was so nervous that he tried to run out but only made it as far as a plant pot before he had to stop and throw up in it while everyone watched.

That particular player was transferred in the January window. The official line is that he 'never quite settled' at City, although allegedly the two things are unconnected.

Louis only took over the captaincy in January when the previous captain had finally succumbed to a long standing back injury and agreed it was time to retire. Liam knows this means Louis is probably shitting himself a bit too, keen for tonight to be a success, but you'd never know to look at him.

He obviously doesn't want a repeat of last summer because he's allowing the two new Italian players to sing together. They rush through the Italian national anthem and it's not too bad but it's obvious they're both relieved when they're done and they can relax for the rest of the night.

"Brilliant lads," Louis grins, jumping back up onto his chair and it wobbles again. Liam actually can't watch any more in case Louis breaks his neck. Louis crouches down to have a quick chat with one of the youth teamers that's come along for the trip and nods, standing back up and introducing the kid. After that there are only two players left, and first up is their new Spanish midfielder. "He's going to sing something by Shakira that I didn't quite catch the name of because it was in Spanish!"

He really is quite good, but Liam finds his mind tends to drift when he can't understand the words of songs. This time he finds himself thinking about the day three years ago when Louis was the one standing in front of everybody and singing. Liam remembers Louis being absolutely terrified which masked his lovely voice a little, although Liam has since had the pleasure of seeing him belt out a track or two at karaoke and knows what he's really capable of.

He's pulled from his thoughts by the round of applause as Rafa finishes his song and Liam is even more concerned when he looks up to see that Louis has not only climbed back onto his chair but he's also now testing out whether the table is sturdy enough to take his weight.

Liam can't help himself and calls out "No, Louis," and Louis looks down at him as the rest of the lads laugh. There's a little sparkle in his eyes like he's considering it anyway and then he throws his napkin at Liam and says "Yes, _Dad_." He grins at Liam as Liam pulls the napkin off his head, and Louis turns back to the rest of the group.

"Anyway, saving the best for last, my new best mate Niall, the second best left footed player at the club!"

Niall rolls his eyes because he knows Louis is referring to himself as the best and Niall's feeling a little bit cocky tonight. "Yeah, well. We'll see about that won't we?" Niall pushes his chair back from the table a bit and reaches behind him. "You'll excuse me if I don't stand up like the others?" He's pulling a guitar onto his lap and there's a ripple of excitement through the squad. Louis looks utterly delighted.

"Newbie's brought props," he exclaims. "He hasn't even sung a note and he's already putting the rest of you to shame."

Niall laughs and clears his throat, and it's enough to get Louis to shut up and slide back down into his seat. He picks out a few notes at first and then starts to play properly, and Liam realises Louis didn't say what Niall would be singing. He's expecting some kind of Irish folk song for some reason, so it's a pleasant surprise when he starts to sing and it's Champagne Supernova. Liam loves this song and it sounds great in Niall's voice.

Niall gets the biggest applause of the night and he's gone from white to red by the time he carefully leans his guitar against the wall behind him and pulls his chair back under the table. The group is extra rowdy during dessert and nobody really notices when Louis stops beside Liam as he slips to the toilet and whispers "My room after the meal. Niall and Zayn are going in to town."

It's not just Niall and Zayn, as it turns out – most of the lads drift off in little groups down to explore the small town by Lake Garda. Louis makes a big show of yawning and claiming he wants to take a bath before Niall gets back, and Liam doesn't really even try to make excuses, he just wanders down to the training pitches by himself for a while until his phone buzzes in his pocket.

_Where are you? :) x_

When Liam knocks on the door to Louis and Niall's room, he realises that Louis must have been waiting on the other side because the door is flung open within seconds of Liam's knuckles connecting with the wood. It's a good thing Liam knows there's nobody in the corridor because Louis grabs a fistful of Liam's shirt and pulls him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him and making sure it's locked.

Liam trips over his feet as he kicks off his shoes while Louis is dragging him towards the bed, and his brain is too full of Louis to take in a lot of what happens after that. All he knows is that he's straddling Louis on the bed with his hand down Louis' shorts when there's a whirring noise at the door that he almost misses.

He probably would have missed it, if it hadn't been followed by a loud thud.

"What was that?" Liam hisses, and Louis shrugs. Liam straightens up to try and listen and Louis pushes up onto his elbows, trying to follow Liam's mouth with his own and whining when Liam pulls further away.

Louis sighs. "It's locked. It's fine."

There's another whirr and a thud at the door, and this time it's followed by Niall's voice. "Key's not working."

Louis grins. "See? I locked it. It's fine. Now get back to kissing me."

"It's fine mate," Zayn's voice comes through the door next. "You don't need your wallet, I've got this."

 _Thank you, Zayn_ , Liam thinks, but Niall apparently isn't going to be deterred because now he's knocking.

"Louis? Louis – sorry, are you there?"

Liam rolls over so he's lying beside Louis on the bed rather than on top of him. Louis just turns his face against the pillow and puts his finger to his lips with a smile.

"He said he was going in the bath," Zayn points out reasonably. "He probably can't hear you."

There's another whirr, as if Niall just can't understand why his key isn't working. "Louis?" He calls out again, a bit louder this time.

"Why won't he _go away_ ," Louis whispers at Liam in the whiniest voice he can manage.

"If he's locked it from inside while he's in the bath, maybe the receptionist can override it?" Niall wonders, and Liam can't stop himself from groaning in frustration.

Zayn sighs. He probably can't understand why Niall's so determined to pay for his own night out but Liam guesses it's a new boy thing. Liam gets paid well by the club, but he'd be the same if he suddenly started earning the kind of money Niall's just signed up for. Until he gets used to the extra zeros on his bank balance, even just letting somebody pay for a few beers is probably a bigger deal for Niall than it could possibly be for Zayn with his expensive lifestyle and his popstar wife. "If you must, mate. I'll come."

Their voices fade as they wander off down the corridor and Liam sighs as he starts to get up. He's already pulling his trainers back on when Louis sits up and tugs on his arm. "Where are you going?"

Liam turns around and stares at Louis. "Back to my room?"

Louis shakes his head, curling his arm around Liam from behind and pressing kisses down the back of Liam's neck. "No."

"But-"

"You could wait on the balcony?" Louis suggests helpfully. "Or in the bathroom?"

"And what if he decides not to bother going out again?" Liam murmurs softly, turning his head to catch Louis's lips in a kiss. "I'd better go. But we can try this again. Make sure he has his bloody wallet next time though, yeah?"

Louis sighs and nods, smacking Liam on the bum as he stands up. They only get distracted with kisses once or twice more as Liam makes his way towards the door and he unlocks it and pokes his head outside, checking the corridor both ways before running out and going the long way round so he can avoid going through the lobby.

By the time he gets back to his room he has a text from Louis.

_Niall felt so bad bc he dragged the poor receptionist up here and all of a sudden his key works. I had to have an actual bath tho or he would have wanted to know why I wasn't shrivelled and prune-like. x_

Liam chuckles to himself and then sighs as he flops down on to his bed, pretending to listen to Graham as he taps out a reply.

_Gray's got highlighters and medical journals this is not how I saw my night endingggggg :(_

–

The next night things go a little better. Well – a lot better, actually, if you ask Louis. After another exhausting day of training everybody's allowed to do whatever they want for dinner, and once again they split off into enough small groups that nobody notices when Liam and Louis don't follow the rest of them into town.

They're both so tired and ready for it that they don't need long and Louis kind of loves the way Liam just cuddles up beside him and falls straight to sleep afterwards like a giant puppy. Liam's dead to the world and Louis is just starting to doze off beside him when he hears that familiar whirring sound from the door, followed by a shout of "not _again!_ " and a thunk as Niall kicks the door.

Louis is torn between staying where he is and forcing Niall to go through the whole reception charade again, or getting up to let him in. Eventually he realises that if Niall has to involve the hotel staff to help him get the door open, it still only buys them an extra few minutes and he really doesn't want to wake Liam up.

Sighing, he grabs his boxers and tracksuit bottoms from the floor and pulls them on as he hops to the door. Niall's quickly had to get used to the fact that Louis sleeps in the nude, but he really doesn't think he could come up with a plausible explanation for why he'd be doing that with Liam in his bed that's not just the truth. He gives himself a quick check in the mirror and runs a hand through his hair, hoping it's not too obvious, and then he unlocks the door from the inside and pulls it open just as Niall's walking away.

"Sorry," Louis mumbles out into the corridor and Niall turns around. "I thought you'd be out longer so I locked it."

Niall shrugs, accepting that as an answer. "Yeah, that was the plan, but Perrie called and Zayn got all..." he waves a hand around in the air.

"Mopey?" Louis guesses. He knows what Zayn gets like when Perrie goes on tour, although he's usually better about it if he's away from home too.

"Yeah." Niall nods, and Louis is still standing in the doorway, blocking Niall from being able to get inside. It's almost a stand off, because Niall's looking puzzled and making obvious glances into the room, and Louis is just standing there with his arms crossed and not moving. Eventually, Niall decides that apparently the only way he's getting into the room tonight is if he asks to. "So, can I...?"

Louis blinks as if he'd forgotten why they were standing there and then just nods. "Oh – yeah." He steps to one side to let Niall past and as he's closing the door he realises he should probably at least try to come up with an explanation for why Liam's asleep in his bed.

"So here's the thing," Louis starts and walks straight into Niall's back.

"Is that Liam?" Niall asks, and Louis peeks around him as if he's surprised by the suggestion. Liam has rolled over since Louis got out of the bed so he's facing away from them now, and most of his face is obscured by duvet.

"Er – yes."

Niall is silent for almost an entire minute before it becomes evident that if he wants further information he's going to have to ask for it.

"Why?" Niall's voice isn't accusing or disgusted, which Louis takes to be a good sign. It's mostly just confused.

"He, um." Louis swallows. He really should have come up with a lie before he opened the door. "He said he was just going up to his room to watch a film, and I pointed out that they would probably all be in Italian or subtitled in Italian. But as you know, Nialler, I brought my PlayStation. So I said if he wanted to come up and watch something in here, he was most welcome. And then he fell asleep. Long day, you know?"

"If it was subtitled in Italian wouldn't that mean the words and that would still be in English?"

"I did not think of that," Louis concedes. "Stop being logical."

Liam chooses that moment to roll over in bed again and the duvet falls away from his face enough that it becomes clear he's not wearing a shirt. Louis is just glad it didn't fall off altogether because there would definitely be no way to explain Liam's complete lack of clothes. Niall's still just standing there in the doorway staring at Liam, though, and Louis isn't totally convinced he's in the clear with this yet.

"He's got no top on," Niall points out, as if Louis might not have noticed. "Neither do you, as it happens."

"It got hot."

"Your bed's beside the balcony door?"

Louis really wants to just push Niall back out of the room again to make him stop asking questions but there are a lot of reasons that's a bad idea. One of which is that if he keeps locking Niall out of the room it might look like he's bullying the new boy, and he definitely can't have that. He _likes_ Niall. He's already a little bit guilty that he hasn't really been taking Niall under his wing on this trip the way he probably should, but Zayn seems to be taking care of that side of things. "We tried that," Louis lies again. "But it's such a calm night it didn't even make a breeze."

"Oh," Niall nods, as if that makes sense. Louis hopes that Niall doesn't mention the air conditioning unit next. He's still frowning, as if he's trying to put something together in his head but can't quite get there, when Liam starts to stir. Louis hops over to the bed and sits down beside him, aiming to do some damage control.

"Louis-" Liam croaks, and Louis laughs brightly before Liam can say anything else.

"Niall's here!"

Liam frowns. "Um-"

"I was just telling him how we were watching a film and you fell asleep," Louis carries on, talking over the top of anything Liam is about to say. "He's back early because Zayn got a call from Perrie."

"Oh." Liam mumbles, pressing his fingers into his eyes in an attempt to wake up a bit so that he doesn't accidentally say anything incriminating.

"So how about you fill us in on the Zayn situation," Louis smiles, hoping Niall will let himself be distracted by the question.

Niall flops back onto his own bed and closes his eyes. "Not much to tell really," he sighs. Louis tries not to giggle as Liam takes advantage of Niall having his eyes closed to reach down to the floor to retrieve his pants and then wriggles around trying to get them back on without dislodging the duvet further. "We'd just ordered dessert and his phone rang so he went outside to answer it. By the time he came back the desserts had arrived and I'd already eaten mine and he had this look on his face-"

"His sappy look, I know it well," Louis nods, and even while Niall has his eyes closed Louis can tell he's confused so he elaborates. "You know. Where he looks sad because he misses her but happy he got to speak to her? Sad and happy. Sappy."

Niall turns his head and opens one eye. Louis bites back a laugh as he feels Liam suddenly stop wriggling behind him. "You're aware sappy is an actual word, right?"

"Yes. And it fits perfectly, I just expanded the definition. Check Urban Dictionary, I put it on there."

"Anyway." Niall shakes off the interruption and continues the story. "He told me I should eat his tiramisu because he wouldn't be much fun tonight, and then he came back here. And then I followed. And then it's now."

Liam sits up in the bed, obviously confident that he's got his underwear back in place, and leans over to look for his t-shirt. He's just pulling it over his head when Niall pushes himself up on his elbows and groans. "I didn't realise how tired I was until I lay down on this amazing bed. My back feels like it had forgotten what a mattress felt like."

"And this was just day two!" Louis exclaims brightly and Niall groans again, pushing himself the rest of the way up until he's standing.

"I'm going to take a shower," he yawns. "Else I'll just fall asleep right here in my clothes."

He wanders off into the bathroom and Liam breathes a sigh of relief when he hears Niall flick the lock. Louis leans back against where Liam is sitting and Liam smiles, pressing kisses to Louis' neck. "That was close," he murmurs against skin, and Louis laughs.

"Next time I'm waking you up to help with the excuses," he breathes, and then groans a little in frustration as Liam stops sucking at his neck before he leaves a mark.

"I've got to go," Liam whispers, and sticks out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

"I know."

Liam nods and pulls Louis closer, mumbling goodbyes and goodnights against his lips before he stands up and heads for the door, leaving Louis looking rumpled and breathless on the bed. Liam shouts goodbye to Niall through the bathroom door and he hears Niall shout something back over the spray of the water although he doesn't quite catch what it is. By the time Liam reaches the door and turns around, Louis is already back under the covers and the clothes he'd pulled on to make himself decent are lying on the floor. Liam's a little bit sad he missed that little strip show, but he does catch the little wicked grin that Louis has on his face and he laughs as he lets himself back out into the corridor.

–

The next day they've got their first competitive match that doesn't just involve them playing against each other. They're playing a local eleven so the official line is that there's no real pressure. There's basically no chance they'll lose and this is mostly a fitness test and a chance to try out a few of the new things they've been doing in training.

Of course _unofficially_ , everybody knows that Swindon beat this same eleven 9-2 last pre-season so the aim is to better that. By the time kick off comes around the whole team is completely pumped up and ready to go.

It works, and City run out 13-1 winners in the end. Zayn gets five of the goals and Niall gets two – even Louis scores one and as a defender goals aren't usually part of his game. As they walk off at the end Liam overhears Louis consoling the goalie about the fact he didn't keep a clean sheet. "It's not your fault," Louis is saying as he claps Johnno on the back. "Their penalty was obviously a consolation, it was never a foul."

Liam takes the opportunity to hole up in the little room he's claimed as his own down at the training ground. He needs to send a few emails to the members of the physio team that are holding the fort back in Manchester, and fill in a few notes in his diary about fitness issues that cropped up during the game.

He's had a tip-off that some signings might be imminent when they get back home, so he's in the middle of writing an email to the hospital putting a couple of potential medical slots on hold when there's a gentle knocking at the door and he turns around to find Louis standing there.

"Hi," Louis smiles. "What have I told you about working too hard?"

Liam laughs and waves Louis over, and Louis closes the door behind him before obliging. He squeezes himself between Liam's knees and the desk and pushes the laptop further back so that he can perch on the table edge.

"I thought you were going to be sociable tonight?" Liam had grabbed a word with Louis earlier in the day, insisting that he do some actual squad bonding tonight otherwise people might start to think he's boring. And if there's one thing Liam knows Louis is not, it's boring.

Louis nods quickly. "I am. I just made sure I took a slow shower so that I had a good enough reason to tell them I'll catch up."

The idea of Louis in the shower kind of makes Liam want to say go back on all his good intentions and drag Louis back to the bedroom while Niall is out, but that wasn't the deal. Instead he settles for reaching up and hooking his arms around Louis' neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Louis sucks at his bottom lip and Liam shivers a little, threading his fingers through Louis' hair while they kiss. It's still a little damp from the shower, obviously recently towel dried, and it's unstyled and soft and looks much longer than it normally does. Liam thinks it’s adorable.

When Louis pulls back his eyes are bright and wide and Liam can't help but grin back at him. He drops his hands down to Louis' legs, letting them rest on his thighs and fiddling with the hem of Louis' shorts.

"I scored a goal tonight," Louis breathes, his eyes shining.

"I saw," Liam laughs. "You took it well."

Louis grins. "I think I deserve a reward." He settles his hands loosely around Liam's wrists and teases. "Blow job?"

Liam snorts and raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes. Do you think I could get Harry to write that into my contract? Goal bonus: to be paid in blow jobs."

"I think," Liam starts, pulling Louis down from the edge of the desk and fully into his lap. "I think that you should be careful what you wish for. When did you last score a goal before tonight?"

"Boxing day last season, at home to Everton. Bullet from the edge of the box." Louis answers promptly, and Liam stares back at him pointedly. "Oh. Yeah. I don't think waiting seven months for you to blow me is exactly ideal."

Liam snorts again. "Does that mean I’m named in this imaginary sex acts based contract of yours?"

Louis grins. "Obviously. You have to be specific when it comes to contracts, Harry has taught me that much. I could end up with any random club employee chasing me round trying to suck my dick, and that would not be pleasant."

"I love that you've thought this through," Liam laughs softly, and congratulates himself on coming up with a string of words to follow _I love_ that didn't end in _you_ , because that's the word that almost slipped out of his mouth. And while he thinks it might possibly be true, it's been less than two weeks and he's not that guy.

There are voices somewhere outside and Liam thinks about telling Louis to go find them and have fun tonight, but before he can say anything Louis is wriggling in his lap and pulling his phone from his pocket. "It's from Harry," he says, and unlocks the screen and opens the text message before snorting and handing the phone to Liam for him to read.

_Offer for shampoo ad – y/n?_

Liam laughs and reaches up to run his hand through Louis' hair. "Well you _were_ complaining you don't get as many offers as Zayn." He passes the phone back to Louis and tilts his face up so that he can kiss along Louis' jaw. "Ask him if we're talking more David Ginola or Joe Hart."

"Mmm," Louis nods, closing his eyes and leaning into the kisses. "I'll ask."

The voices outside get louder and Liam now they're closer recognises them as Niall's and Zayn's. "They're coming to get you, I think," Liam mumbles and Louis sighs and stands up. Liam shifts in his chair and pulls his laptop forward again so that he looks like he's working, and Louis goes to fling the door open before either of them can get there first.

"Lads!" He grins, and Zayn beams back at him with Niall just a few steps behind. "Ready to go?"

Zayn rolls his eyes. "We've been waiting outside for you for nearly half an hour, I think the question is are _you_ ready to go?"

"I told you I'd catch up," Louis reasons, slinging an arm around each of them and leading them from the room. "I saw the lights were still on in here and came to see if Liam wanted to join us for karaoke before his head explodes from working too hard. He doesn't."

Zayn twists around to look at Liam. "You sure mate? You're welcome."

Liam smiles a bit and shakes his head. "I'm sure. I need to finish this and then I'm going to bed."

"Right then," Zayn nods. "See you tomorrow." Niall is already backing out of the office and Zayn waves cheerfully as he grabs Louis by the wrist and tugs him through the door, as if Louis might disappear again if Zayn's not physically keeping track of him.

Louis bends his free arm behind him, the one Zayn isn't holding on to, and curls his hand into a little wave at Liam at the same time as he shouts out "Seeya, Liam!" and it's weirdly jarring, Liam thinks, the private little wave and the shouting out for everyone to hear.

But he just laughs and says "Have fun!" and watches them go. He can't really concentrate on much after that, because he can still feel Louis' hair between his fingers and see the way he was sitting relaxed in Liam's lap. It's too distracting so he sends one last email that he's pretty sure makes no sense and shuts everything down for the night.

–

Thursday is a weird night. This time when Niall's trying to get into the room and he finds the door is locked again, Louis happily flings it open within thirty seconds of the first knock. And Niall's face is a picture, because Louis is shirtless again but this time he's also only wearing his boxers, and when Niall peers into the room he can see Liam sitting at the little table by the window, also not wearing enough clothes for this to be a casual visit.

"Come in!" Louis grins, patting Niall on the back and dragging him inside. "We're playing strip snap."

"Strip... snap?" Niall queries, scrunching his nose up. "As in. _Snap?_ "

"Snap as in snap, yep," Louis confirms, and Liam is nodding from his chair.

"Neither of us know how to play poker," Liam adds, as if this explains everything.

Niall just stares for a minute. "Right. Have you two been drinking?"

"Night before a match, Nialler? Never!" Louis grins, and he's still just standing there wearing his boxers. Niall thinks Louis must be pretty crap at snap.

"Want to join in?" Liam pulls a chair out for Niall, and Niall doesn't want to look too closely but he's pretty sure Liam is only wearing a long shirt and he's already lost his underwear. Liam mustn’t be too hot at snap either.

Somehow they convince him to join in, and he agrees on the condition that he teaches them how to play actual poker and they both have to get dressed again so that they all start on a level footing.

Two hours later, Niall's only lost one sock and Liam and Louis are pretty much back where they started, clothes wise. Niall wins the hand and drops his cards down on the table with a sigh.

"Look, lads," he starts. "I'm not sure how to say this, because I know I'm new and this is probably none of my business, but like," he sighs again, waving both of his hands back and forth between the two of them. "If you two are sleeping together then that's really fine with me."

Louis feels a little bit ill, and he's starting to see what Liam had meant earlier on when he'd said if Niall came back and found them playing strip _anything_ it might be hard to explain. Louis had somehow managed to convince him that this is a thing that lads do, and that all they'd have to do would be smile a lot and make Niall think there's nothing weird about it. "I-"

"I won't say anything," Niall interrupts. "I get why you'd want to keep it a secret, and I promise I won't tell. I'll leave you alone as much as you want. Just..." he scrunches up his nose. "Stop locking me out of the room? It's annoying."

Liam is looking at Louis out of the corner of his eye and not looking at Niall at all. This isn't his call, the decision belongs to Louis. But he does kick a foot out under the table and hooks his bare ankle around Louis'. Eventually Louis looks up at Niall and just nods ever so slightly. "Thanks."

He doesn't need to say anything else. Niall just nods and then fist bumps both of them, putting his errant sock back on and standing up to leave the room. "I'm off to call home," he says, not looking back. "I'll be at least an hour."

–

Liam is really quite good at his job. He's good at the part where he's friends with all of the players, because they have to trust him and he needs to be able to know when they're lying. Because footballers lie a lot, he's come to realise, mostly when it comes to pretending things don't hurt when they do. But he didn't come to be head physio at a top Premier League club while he's still in his mid-twenties just by being friends with everyone.

So as much as Liam's had a lot of fun this week at training being able to watch Louis doing his thing, running, being sweaty and generally looking hot, when it comes to their first proper pre-season match, Liam switches everything off and is able to keep it completely professional. They're playing Inter Milan this time, not just a group of local deli owners and tradesmen, so Liam needs to be paying attention.

He's been doing this job with most of these players long enough that he knows their habits. He knows that Zayn is one of the most skilful players at the club but also one of the laziest in a lot of ways – he doesn't have a reputation for being a diver exactly, but if he goes down in a challenge Liam's a little slower to grab his bag and stand up because more often than not Zayn's just lying on the grass taking a bit of a breather.

He also knows that Louis is the complete opposite – if Louis is fouled he's usually up on his feet within seconds. So when he's across the other side of the pitch and gets knocked off the ball by one of the Milan players and stays down, Liam's standing at the touchline with his bag in his hand before he even has time to register that he's moving.

Liam is waiting impatiently as the referee jogs over to where Louis is lying on the grass. Niall gets there first and bends down beside Louis, says something to him and Liam sees Louis nod. Niall straightens up and he's talking at the referee but looking straight past him at Liam, and waving at Liam to let him know he's needed on the pitch. Liam takes it as a good sign that Niall doesn't look particularly concerned or distressed and he's still hovering by the touchline because he needs the referee to wave him over before he can go. Finally it happens, and Liam's sprinting across the pitch to Louis.

Louis is just pushing himself up on his elbows as Liam gets there and Niall pats Louis on the shoulder and wanders off, taking the opportunity to get a drink of water. Liam immediately notes that the leg Louis is holding is the opposite leg to the hamstring that was damaged, and that's a massive relief.

"Hey," Liam breathes, kneeling down beside Louis. "What hurts?"

"My knee," Louis looks up as he replies, biting his lip and shaking his hair out of his eyes. "It's fine though, I think I just landed funny."

Liam smiles and gets to work, feeling around Louis' kneecap and squeezing it gently. "Let me be the judge of that, yeah?"

Louis nods back at him and Liam works quickly, knowing that Louis won't want people to get the impression that he's injury prone or weaker than he was before. Everything seems okay, so Liam's inclined to believe that Louis really did just land awkwardly. He pushes himself up so that he's crouching. "Okay. Let's see if you can stand, first."

Louis nods, and Liam gets to his feet before offering Louis a hand, which he takes. He winces a bit to begin with, and gingerly tries to put his weight on the injured leg. Liam is watching Louis' face carefully as Louis hops a bit and then nods at Liam. "It's fine."

Liam's still not completely convinced. "There's ten minutes until half time, do you want to come off now?" He already knows what the answer is going to be but he'd still kind of prefer it if Louis would consider it so that Liam could check his knee out properly. He knows it's unlikely Louis will agree, though. Liam would be asking this question no matter who the player was, because he's cautious by nature even though more often than not everything is fine.

"No, I can run it off," Louis insists, and Liam nods.

He knows there aren't any cameras around. It's such a small friendly that there aren't even really any fans there, though there are a few scouts around and various other invited guests. Knowing that nobody is close enough to hear him or read his lips, he dips his mouth as close to Louis' ear as he dares and whispers, "I'll kiss it better later."

He turns his back on Louis and signals to the staff on the bench that he's fine to continue, and then he and Louis walk off the pitch at the far side until play has restarted and the referee gives Louis the signal to come back on. Liam slowly trudges back around the outside of the pitch and takes his seat in the dug-out, his eyes trained on Louis as he sprints to meet a cross from Niall. His mobility seems fine, and before long Liam's mind is back on the game.

Half time comes and goes and Louis is being loud in the dressing room as Liam walks past the door, so he takes that to mean everything is fine. Liam is called on twice in the second half, once to tend to a cut on one player's forehead and once when another takes a knock to the ankle. That particular player gets substituted soon after as a precaution, but Louis lasts the whole ninety minutes and he beams at Liam as he walks towards tunnel at full time.

Liam laughs and slings his arm around Louis' neck as they walk off. "Come and see me after you're done with the gaffer," he says, and Louis nods and then runs off, jumping on Niall's back with a roar. The game had ended 1-1 and Liam doesn't expect the manager to have much to say tonight apart from _well done out there_ so it shouldn't be long before various players are traipsing in to see him and get their knocks and strains checked out.

He gets set up in his temporary office and a few players drop in. He spends the longest on the ankle injury, strapping it up and giving him instructions for the next few days. Finally when he's done with everyone else he looks up and Louis is waiting in the doorway. "Ready for me now?"

Liam nods and smiles, gesturing to the treatment table. "Sit."

Louis does as he's told for once and hops up onto the table, lying back and letting Liam get to work. Louis closes his eyes while Liam taps and squeezes at his knee, following orders whenever Liam tells him to straighten or bend or asks if something hurts.

"Okay," Liam eventually says. "You can sit up. It'll probably be a bit stiff tomorrow, but there's officially no lasting damage."

"I told you that at the time," Louis complains.

"I know, but I wouldn't be doing my job properly if I didn't check. You know that."

Louis just sticks his tongue out and starts to take his match-worn shirt off to swap it for a clean one, and Liam takes that as an agreement that yes, he knows.

"I'm thinking about asking Niall to move in with me when we get home," Louis says while his shirt is halfway over his head, and Liam drops the clipboard he'd been writing on.

"You – what?" Liam licks his lips while he processes those words again in case he heard them wrong. "Is this some really cruel way of breaking up with me?"

"What?" Louis frowns and then rolls his eyes as he realises, throwing the shirt at Liam's head. "No, you idiot. I meant like Zayn and Perrie did for me – he's still living in the hotel the club moved him into when he signed. And especially now that he knows about us, I thought it would be a nice gesture."

"Oh." Liam feels a bit daft now, pulling the sweaty shirt off his face and throwing it back at Louis. "Yeah. That's probably a good idea."

"He might eat all of my food though." Louis is watching Liam carefully, to make sure that this is really okay with him.

"You mean your cheese and beer?" Liam teases, and Louis rolls his eyes and swings his legs back around off the table so he can jump down. "I have a few things to finish up here. Go back to the room and rest your knee. We'll give Niall one night when he's not traumatised or locked out, yeah?"

"I promised to stop locking him out now," Louis reminds him, and Liam laughs. He pokes his head outside the little office to check nobody is out there and then pulls the door closed, taking the opportunity to press Louis up against it with a little smile.

They kiss for a few minutes standing there in Liam's office before Liam reluctantly sends Louis back up to the room so that he can finish his work. They all have the next day off and Louis has plans to spend the morning with Zayn and Niall, but they arrange to meet for lunch before Louis starts to trek back across from the training centre to the hotel.

–

Hanging out with Zayn and Niall on their day off turns out to be nothing more complicated than sunbathing by the pool, and it's the best idea ever. Louis falls asleep on a sun lounger and when he wakes up, the first thing he sees is Liam walking along the side of the pool wearing his swimming trunks and nothing else, preparing to dive in. Louis adjusts his sunglasses to make sure his eyes are covered, and watches as Liam stretches out and dives. It's perfect technique, and it's incredibly hot. Liam emerges from under the water and starts to swim with strong strokes. He's like a dolphin, Louis thinks. A hot, fuckable dolphin.

Louis watches Liam from behind the safety of his sunglasses. He's not sure how many lengths Liam has done – maybe eight or nine, maybe more – when Niall's voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Zayn, why is your magazine upside down?"

Louis forces himself to look away from Liam and twists on the lounger so that he's facing away from the pool and looking at Zayn. Zayn's got a copy of Four Four Two in his hands and he's been staring at it since they sat down by the pool at least two hours ago, but Niall is right. It's upside down. Zayn looks back and forth between the two of them. "Shit."

Louis pounces before Zayn can do anything about it and pulls the magazine out of his hands. Left behind on Zayn's lap is a Little Mix Annual, and Louis starts to laugh. "Zayn, what the fuck? Surely your pining for Perrie can't be that bad, you're going to see her tonight!" Perrie and the girls have a concert in Milan and Zayn has arranged for tickets for anybody who wants to go. Most of the lads have cried off because Little Mix isn't really their kind of music, but Louis is going to go and so is Niall.

Zayn groans. "No, it's not..." he trails off and then sighs and sits up on the lounger, dropping his voice so that only Niall and Louis are close enough to hear. "I'm revising, okay?"

Niall frowns, and even Louis is a bit confused by that one. "You're revising your wife? That's weird."

"No it's not, okay!" Zayn sounds exasperated. "We've got to do this stupid Mr and Mrs quiz for the website when I get home, I don't know why the fuck Perrie agreed-"

"Probably because she knew you'd go crazy like this and she thought it would be funny," Louis mumbles, and Zayn glares and carries on talking.

"But all I know is if we don't win she's going to kill me."

Louis reaches for the book and starts flicking through the pages. "You know everything about her. You're going to smash it – who are you up against?"

Zayn shrugs. "Kev and his new girlfriend-"

"The bird from Hollyoaks?!" Louis exclaims. "They've been together five minutes."

"Ugh," Zayn grumbles. "You're so lucky you don't have to do this shit, you know."

And really, Louis knows that Zayn doesn't mean anything by that. But Louis still wrinkles his nose and glares right back at Zayn. "Maybe some of us would feel _luckier_ if that were something that would ever be possible." Zayn has the decency to look a little bit embarrassed, but he glances over at Niall instead of replying. "Niall knows," Louis sighs and shifts on his lounger so he can see into the pool again. He figures he's probably got another ten minutes of perving on Liam before Zayn starts bugging him to check things are cool between them.

It's been seven minutes of blissful staring at Liam's arms and chest when Louis' phone starts to ring and Louis grumbles, reaching over to the table to pick it up. It's Harry, which means it's an international call and it's probably important, so he answers it.

"Hey, Lou," Harry starts, and Louis sits up. Harry's voice has that nonchalant tone to it that Harry only uses when he's trying to convince you that something isn't a big deal.

"What's happened?"

"Straight to the point as always," Harry laughs, but he doesn't really sound amused.

"Haz," Louis warns, and he can see Zayn straightening up beside him. Zayn taps him on the arm and when Louis looks, he mouths _everything OK?_ and Louis just shrugs.

"It's just – I just wanted to warn you that there's going to be a story in the papers tomorrow," Harry starts, and Louis thinks he's going to throw up. He doesn't just feel a little bit ill like he did when Niall confronted him about Liam, this is an actual bile rising in the back of his throat, about to puke sort of feeling. He looks over at where Liam is still swimming and then he stands up without even thinking about where his feet are taking him but he hopes it's in the direction of a bathroom. He vaguely registers kicking over Niall's pint, and Niall calling out after him but all he can do is wave in Niall's general direction in what he hopes come across as an apologetic manner.

He's halfway across the lobby when Harry finishes his sentence. "There were some scouts at the match last night from Juventus and there's a story about how they're after you. I've put together a statement-"

"Wait, what?" Louis stops dead in the middle of the lobby when he registers what Harry's saying to him. "Say that again."

"Juventus. They're interested in signing you. I've written a-"

"Fuck, Harry," Louis almost yells, and a few people around the lobby are staring at him. Louis bites his lip a little and takes a few steps so that he's back outside, in a slightly more secluded corner. "Just – stop for a minute and think about what you just said to me."

There's a silence on the other end of the phone and a bit of a rustling. "There were some scouts at the match?"

"Before that."

"There's going to be a story in the-" Harry starts, and then interrupts himself. "Oh. You thought-"

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"Don't do that to me again, I think I might have a heart attack. Actually I'm not entirely sure I'm not having one right now." Louis leans back against the wall and slides down it, pulling his knees against his chest. He sees Zayn coming towards him, heading for the lobby – presumably he's looking for Louis but he's only looking at people level, not down at the floor. As Zayn passes, Louis darts a hand out and grabs his ankle. Zayn yelps and tries to shake off whatever it is, and then looks down and realises it's Louis' hand.

"Sorry, again," Harry mumbles, and Louis can't manage to be mad at Harry. Harry is too much of a softie to be mad at him for long.

"I know," Louis sighs, and as Zayn slides down the wall to sit beside him Louis leans his head on Zayn's shoulder. "Tell me about the statement you're going to put out."

"Oh – it's just going to say that you're happy at City and you've got three years left on your contract and as far as you're concerned your future is in Manchester. Is that okay with you?"

Louis nods, and it's not until Harry's voice softly prompts him that he realise he hasn't spoken out loud. "Lou?"

"Yeah," Louis breathes, swallowing hard. His heart rate is just about back to normal now. "That sounds fine. I'll talk to you later." He hangs up and Zayn tilts his head curiously.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now," Louis sighs and then stands up, pulling Zayn to his feet too. "I owe Niall a pint."

-

They've got two more days of training followed by one more friendly match before they fly home and start their real preparations for the new season.

Asking Niall to move in turns out to be a really great idea. Not only does Louis have company in the house, he also has someone who can cook and when Liam stays over most nights there's no reason for anyone to be suspicious about why. Lads night is a great excuse for anything.

Pre-season training turns into the start of the season faster than Louis can blink, and City get off to a good start with two away wins. Unfortunately, Harry's statement doesn't seem to have stopped the media from speculating about his 'imminent transfer' to Juventus. No matter how many times he winds his window down on the way into the training ground to give sound-bites to reporters about how happy he is in Manchester, the stories just keep coming.

It's affecting his performances and he knows it. It's a vicious cycle – the fans have read the stories, they think his head's been turned by the idea that a glamorous Italian club wants to sign him, and they're much quicker to boo when he misplaces a pass or mis-times a tackle. He knows it's part of the game and he tries not to let it get to him, but he can't help it.

It all comes to a head when he gets sent off against West Ham. They're winning 1-0 but it's a terrible game, with neither team really looking like world beaters. Ten minutes from time, he hears the boos from a section of fans when he loses control of the ball. Kevin Nolan skips off with it and Louis is determined to get the ball back to shut them up. He goes in two-footed on Nolan, confident he can get the ball, but Nolan hits the deck and Louis knows straight away he's off. He hears the whistle and he doesn't even need to look at the ref to know he's reaching into his back pocket for the red card.

It's the first red card of his professional career. He stands for a minute with his hands on his hips while he catches his breath, but he doesn't even try to argue. He pulls off the captain's armband as he walks, shoving it against Zayn's chest and heading for the tunnel. The boos are deafening and while he'd like to believe it's for the ref's decision, that a chorus of _you're not fit to referee_ will ring out any second, he knows it's because he might have just cost them the points.

Louis can't even bring himself to look at Liam as he walks past the bench and stomps off into the dressing room.

He gets a proper ear-bashing from the manager afterwards before he's finally allowed to go home. He'll get a three match suspension since it's a straight red for violent conduct. There's no point appealing to the FA to try and get it rescinded because by going in with his studs up Louis had left the referee with no other choice.

Liam comes over later and brings a takeaway with him. Louis raises an eyebrow when he opens the door, surprised that Liam of all people is bringing him junk food, and Liam shrugs. "Thought you might need a treat."

They settle down in front of the TV to watch Match of the Day and Louis cringes when he sees the replay of the tackle. He's got no idea what he was thinking, he had no chance of getting the ball from there and he wouldn't be surprised if he left stud marks on Nolan's leg. Thankfully it happened so late in the game it didn't give West Ham enough time to gain enough momentum to equalise, and since it was just outside the box he didn't give away a penalty in the process. But now he's got to sit out three games and he can't expect to just walk back into the team once his suspension is over.

The commentator is saying something similar, with some comments about how Louis could have broken Nolan's leg that Louis thinks is total bullshit. It wasn't a legal tackle by any stretch of the imagination but it wasn't _that_ dangerous.

After the highlights package is done, it cuts back to the studio and the first thing out of Gary Lineker's mouth is "So, do you think Tomlinson's just going through the motions until he gets that Juventus transfer he's hoping for?" Alan Shearer doesn't really answer the question, instead talking about the pressure of the modern game and then picks up where the commentators left off discussing how dangerous the tackle had been. Pretty much the same old shit he spouts every week.

"Of course he thinks that, he was a striker," Louis complains around a mouthful of chicken fried rice. It doesn't matter that he'd just admitted he shouldn't have done it, it still gets his back up when the pundits criticise him. "They always think we're out to get them."

He's already reaching for his phone and Liam has to take it off him. "No tweeting in anger."

"Lineker said I want a transfer! He's making it worse! And I've always thought Shearer is a wanker."

Liam snorts. "And that's why you can have this back when you've calmed down."

It's not really the start to the season Louis had been hoping for.

When transfer deadline day rolls around at the end of August he's still suspended, so he doesn't have to participate in the warm-down session for the previous day's match. Instead he spends the morning in the gym and then heads for home, turning on Sky Sports News and flopping onto the couch. When he doesn't sign for Juventus before tonight's deadline and he's still a Man City player when everybody wakes up tomorrow morning, he's sure things will get back to normal. The suspension is over at last so he's back in the squad for the weekend and his replacement hasn't been doing well enough at left back that he thinks he might not be selected.

He's almost asleep by nine-thirty. His legs are stretched out across Liam – who is snoring a bit – and Niall's curled up in the armchair messing around on his phone. Louis hears Jim White throwing to one of the Sky Sports News 'sources' at the Juventus training ground and reaches for the remote, turning up the volume a bit out of curiosity. All day they've been playing up the fact they're expecting to see Louis arrive there at some point and really, how did this become an actual thing from one scout coming to see him play during pre-season and making an enquiry?

Louis gets the volume up just in time to hear Harry's name and he squints at the screen. They're right, that's definitely Harry walking across the car park on screen. He turns it back down and reaches for his phone just as they cut back to the studio, and he dials Harry's number.

He doesn't answer immediately, but when he does he sounds a little off. A little less cheerful than Harry usually sounds when he answers his phone. Louis decides not to beat around the bush.

"Harold. Are you in Italy?"

"Erm," Harry replies, clearly stalling for time. Louis knows all of Harry's speech patterns by now. "Maybe?"

Louis sighs. "Since when? I talked to you this morning."

"Since just after that," Harry admits. "I was at the airport when you phoned."

Niall steps across the lounge and peers through the curtains while Louis is talking. "It's a sea of photographers out there!" he hisses, and Louis sighs into the phone.

"SSN have got footage of you at Juve, idiot. And Niall says the paps are outside the house – although why they're bothering if they think I'm in Italy waiting to sign a contract, I have no idea."

Harry swears down the phone and then there's the sound of a door slamming and everything goes a little bit quieter in the background. "I'm not here about you. You weren't the only player they enquired about – you were just the only one the media got wind of."

"Cheers Haz. Let me take the flack while you work out a secret deal for another one of your clients, why don't you!"

"The two things aren't connected! The story about you had already leaked, there was no point putting this one out there too. It's not like it would have helped you to have two of you getting booed."

Louis snorts. "That makes me feel loads better."

"Listen," Harry sighs. "I've got to go. The deadline's an hour earlier here so we've got to get this paperwork through, but just. Go and put the bins out in your pyjamas or something. Let them get a shot of you at home and clearly going nowhere. Then they might go away."

Louis grumbles and hangs up but he does as Harry suggests, taking the bin liner out of the kitchen bin and dumping it outside. He stays out there just long enough to be sure they get at least a couple of shots of him and by the time he's curled back up beside Liam on the couch twenty minutes later, a piece of video of him in his front yard has been added to the rolling news stream. All of a sudden the angle has changed from _when will Tomlinson arrive at Juventus to sign his contract_ to _negotiations have fallen through_ and Louis doesn't even care that there were never any negotiations to begin with because it means the spotlight is off him and on to more interesting stories about deals that are actually happening.

Football is a fickle sport, and for once that works in Louis' favour. As soon as it becomes clear he really isn't leaving – at least not in this transfer window – the fans get back on his side. It helps that he has an excellent game against Fulham in his first match back after the suspension and gets presented with the man of the match award, and just like that everything is forgotten.

He still hates the media, though. They're invasive and annoying and he hates that he can't just go out with Liam without thinking up a reason first or convincing Niall or Zayn to come out too. He can't easily take Liam home to meet his family and that's the worst because he's _told_ his mum but it's not the same thing.

His birthday always sucks a bit these days because it's so close to Christmas and yet he can't just go home for the holidays like his friends who have proper jobs. He just wants to eat too much food and watch his sisters unwrap their gifts but he never can because there's always a training session on his birthday and on Christmas Day too. This year is a bit better because Niall's invited himself over to another member of the squad's house for Christmas lunch so Louis and Liam get the place to themselves. Louis has refused to let Liam buy him any gifts, but as soon as training is done they go home and spend the afternoon in bed which is the thing Louis really wants anyway.

Boxing Day is a big deal, though. There's a match, there always is on Boxing Day, but more importantly providing it's a home game Louis always arranges tickets for his mum and the girls. They get to come to Manchester and sit in the executive boxes with the special padded seats and have lunch served right to their box and his mum doesn't have to lift a finger. And this year, after they beat Everton 3-0 and everybody's in a good mood, they can go back to his house and he can finally, _finally_ introduce them all to Liam.

He's never brought anyone home to meet his mum before, at least not anyone who counts, but he should have known better than to be nervous about it. Liam's too nice not to get along with absolutely everybody, and he spends at least an hour letting the girls rummage through his physio bag and explaining what everything does while they 'examine' him. It gives Louis time to chat to his mum while she potters around the kitchen as if it was her own and not his. He knows they'll have to get back on the road soon, there are other family members to visit with more presents for the girls to unwrap, but for now everything is perfect. She's making turkey sandwiches for everyone for tea with meat that she'd had leftover from their Christmas lunch at home, and he's tipping packets of crisps into bowls. They chat about the match and his hamstring for a while, until eventually she brings up the thing he knows she's been waiting to say.

"Liam seems nice."

He thinks they're probably the most loaded three words she's ever said to him. "He is." He takes a bowl of crisps and a massive plate of sandwiches and sets them down on the dining table, closing the door behind him when he comes back in. "He's more than nice. He's funny and gorgeous and he gets it. He understands why we can't just go out on a date. It would be just as big a deal for him as it is for me if people found out about us."

"So you're really just going to keep it a secret?"

Louis shrugs. "Yes." He's always known it would have to be this way.

"Louis," she sighs. Her eyes look sad, almost like she's pitying him, and he can't stand it. "Really? Forever?"

"Maybe. Until I retire, I suppose."

"That could be ten years!"

Louis laughs a little and tries to make a joke. "Longer, I'd hope. I want to still be playing when I'm forty."

"You're no Ryan Giggs, love," she replies, but he can tell she's just humouring him. "Just think about it. Talk to Liam. Decide if you think you can really do this for that long." She turns away before he can say anything else, taking a second plate of sandwiches and a bowl of cheese cubes and adding them to the rest of the buffet. She calls for the girls and Liam to come and help themselves and Louis joins them all while he tries not to think too much about what she said.

–

He manages to put his mum's comments to the back of his mind for a couple of weeks. He concentrates on training and matches, and it doesn't come up again until he goes out for Zayn's birthday in the middle of January. It's nothing flash, no massive party, just dinner in a local restaurant with Zayn and Perrie and Jade. It's far from the first time the four of them have gone out together. They make sense as a group. Zayn and Louis usually end up talking about anything but football while Perrie and Jade talk about anything but music, and if Zayn and Perrie start acting all _married_ then Louis and Jade get along well enough that they can just leave them to it.

That's what happens this time. By the time they're done with dessert Zayn and Perrie can barely keep their hands off each other so Louis and Jade wave them off with a laugh and decide to order coffees before they say their goodbyes. He drapes his coat over her shoulders while they're waiting for their taxis, and when she climbs into the car she hands it back for him to wear while he waits for his own cab to arrive.

When Louis goes out to get petrol the next morning, the last thing he expects to see on the front of one of the newspapers in the shop is a blurry photo of himself kissing Jade on the cheek just as her taxi pulled up. The article clearly implies they left in the same taxi and the last thing he ever wanted was to drag anybody else into his mess.

It gets worse a few weeks later when Match magazine publishes an interview they'd done with him just after Christmas. Instead of focusing on his return from injury the text is filled with nonsense like _Tomlinson is rumoured to be dating Little Mix star Jade Thirlwall_ and a photo of the two of them dancing at Zayn and Perrie's wedding accompanies the article. Shots of him actually playing football are relegated to inset pictures.

"I was the best man and she was a bridesmaid," Louis complains to Liam seconds before he throws the magazine across the bedroom. "Of course we were dancing! I danced with Zayn's littlest sister too, am I dating her as well?"

"I sincerely hope not." Liam tries not to laugh because the situation itself isn't funny, but this petulant side of Louis is kind of endearing. "We know the truth, babe. Ignore what anybody else has to say."

"But that's not the point." He crawls over Liam and reaches onto the floor to retrieve the magazine. "Listen to this: _When asked about his love life, Tommo looks coy._ I wasn't being bloody coy! I was annoyed because it had nothing to do with football! They interviewed me before Zayn's birthday and now they've taken what I said and turned it into some kind of comment about those pictures. They just twist absolutely everything and I'm sick of it. That whole Juventus thing came out of nowhere, and now this. I just – I don't think I can take much more of it."

Liam frowns. It's definitely not funny any more. "What do you mean?"

Louis sees the worry in Liam's eyes and he reaches out, straightening out the wrinkles that appeared when he frowned. "Not what you're thinking," he promises. His mum's words are bouncing around in his head again. _That could be ten years_. Ten more years of lies and hiding and probably accidentally dragging friends into the middle of everything. He hasn't even been with Liam for a year yet and it's already driving him batty. "I just want to play football," he complains. "I don't care about any of the celebrity shit. Why is my love life suddenly so interesting? They never cared before."

Liam laughs a little bit. "You're young, hot, you're practically the captain of England now and they think you're single. Of course they always cared, they probably just got bored of waiting for you to give them a story and decided to make one up. They want a new Posh & Becks."

"They've got Zayn and Perrie for that."

Liam carries on talking, his voice soft and comforting in Louis' ear. But Louis isn't really listening; now it's Liam's words that are ringing in his ears instead of his mum's. _They got bored of waiting for you to give them a story._

So maybe it's time he gave them one.

–

Louis had never been bothered about living in a massive fancy house like a lot of the other lads did. He'd much rather spend his money on his mum and his sisters than have a giant house to rattle around in on his own. So when Louis finally bought his own place, there was only one extravagant requirement on his list – it had to have an indoor heated pool or enough land that he could have one built. He might not seem lazy when you look at how hard he trains or how much extra time he spent at the gym over the summer, but at heart he wants to get the best possible return for the least amount of effort. Having a pool in his house was a far more attractive prospect than the mini gyms or private football pitches lots of his team-mates have got. He's got all those facilities available to him at the training ground, but there's something special about having a pool to himself. Plus it gives him the opportunity to throw cracking pool parties – you can't have a party on a treadmill.

He's floating around on an inflatable armchair one afternoon in early February, a week or so after the magazine incident. Harry is perfectly balanced on a floating lounger, staring out through the floor to ceiling windows. It's absolutely chucking it down outside, and the wind is whipping through the treetops like mad. Louis likes it. It's so wild out there, and so calm in here.

"I've been thinking," Louis starts. He knows Harry has been waiting for him to say something. It's not unusual for Louis to invite Harry over for a random afternoon in the pool, or in front of the TV, or even just for a beer and a chat if it's been a while since they've hung out. But for some reason this felt different as soon as Louis sent the text yesterday asking Harry if he was free, even though that was all he'd said.

"Careful, you might hurt yourself." Harry tries to hold back a grin but fails, and Louis throws a rubber duck at his head.

"Funny. You're funny, Styles."

Harry just grins more and squeezes the rubber duck until it quacks.

"I want to come out."

It's almost funny, the way Harry loses his balance just enough that he has to flail a bit to keep upright on the lounger. Louis would laugh, except for how this is probably the most important thing he's ever said out loud and if he lets himself laugh it would be far too easy to pretend the whole thing was a joke.

"You're serious." It's not a question, and Harry doesn't sound shocked or incredulous. It's literally just a statement without any opinion. It's exactly what Louis needed.

"Deadly."

Louis can see in Harry's eyes the way that Harry-the-agent is fighting with Harry-the-best-mate and ultimately the friendship wins, just like Louis knew it would. "Are you sure? I mean – if this is because of the stuff about Jade-"

"It isn't," Louis interrupts, and then has to amend. "I mean, it's not just that. It's barely that at all, but it's part of it." There's a long pause. "I'm just tired."

Harry considers that. "So what was the final straw, if it wasn't that?"

Louis splashes a handful of water at him. "There hasn't been a final straw yet, that's the point. I want to do this before it gets that far. It's like – it's like my life is a giant game of Kerplunk and everything was balanced perfectly and now the marbles are just... they're dropping through. There was something mum said, something Liam said. Lots of little things and eventually somebody is going to pull out the straw that lets everything drop and I want to be the person who does that."

Harry raises an eyebrow with a smirk. "You want to be the reason you lose your own marbles?"

"Shut up."

"How long have you been thinking up that Kerplunk analogy?"

Louis shrugs and tries to fight back a smile. "Couple of days?"

"It could still use a bit of work."

"I already told you to shut up once, do I have to come over there and make you?"

Harry laughs and runs his arm through the water, floating backwards and away from Louis. "No, you're okay." He sets the rubber duck down on the water and pushes it away, as if he's setting it free. "Go on."

Louis shrugs. "That's it, really. I just – I always thought this would never come up because I didn't see myself finding anybody I wanted to be with until after I retired. And now it's like – it's ten years, give or take, before I can say anything to anybody." He pauses. "I don't know if you've noticed, Harold, but they pay me an obscene amount of money to kick a ball around for a couple of hours a week."

"I've noticed," Harry replies dryly. "You pay me a decent percentage of it."

"Right. Well, I'd quite like to spend some of it taking my boyfriend on holiday and I don't really want to wait ten years to do that. Liam shouldn't have to wait ten years for that either."

Harry looks thoughtful while Louis rants, and then eventually he speaks. "Well, as your best mate, I'm one hundred percent behind you." He pauses. "As your agent, I have some concerns." Louis narrows his eyes and Harry raises his hands in surrender. "I'm not saying don't. I just want to talk about how."

"Well I _was_ thinking I might write a song about it and then hijack the broadcast feed for the Queen's Speech on Christmas Day."

"Solid plan, except it's February. That's quite a while to wait."

"Oh right." Louis sighs dramatically."Back to the drawing board."

Harry laughs and drags one hand through the water until he's drifting in a gentle circle. "Have you talked to Liam about this?"

"Not with words. I think he knows I've been thinking about it though." He looks at Harry as Harry's rotations bring them face to face again. "Don't look at me like that, I'm going to. He's next on my list."

"You've got a list?"

"I wrote it down. It's a complex plan." He grins and ticks items off on his fingers. "Talk to you. Talk to Liam. Tell everyone. Hide."

"Very complex. I can see why you needed to make a note of it."

The rubber duck has floated back over to Louis as if it has a little rubbery death wish. Louis grabs it out of the water and flings it at Harry with a chuckle, who catches it this time. "What did Donald ever do to you?"

"Did you name my duck?" Louis snorts, but he doesn't wait for an answer. He just jumps out of his chair and swims for the steps, hauling himself out of the pool. "You'll be gobsmacked to hear I have a properly stocked fridge these days, Haz. Vegetables and everything. Unfortunately if you want to eat any of it you're still going to have to cook it for me."

Louis knows Harry will be only too happy to cook, and he's right. By the time he comes back down from the bedroom, dressed and dried, Harry is already in the kitchen. He's still only wearing his swimming trunks and he's peeling carrots while he drips water all over the floor.

"Coming to your house is like going on Ready Steady Cook," Harry says. "Here are some ingredients, now see what you can make!"

"And?" Louis pads over to the oven in his bare feet and lifts the lid off a pan Harry's already got on the hob, resisting the urge to point out that the chefs on Ready Steady Cook were usually fully dressed. "What culinary goodness are you going to wow me with this time? And is it even hygenic to be cooking dressed like that?"

"Spag bol," he replies around a mouthful of raw carrot. "I could make this in my sleep which means I get to put most of my attention on you."

"Joy."

"Have you had any thoughts?"

"My thoughts are many and varied. Like have you ever thought about how we're all just sacks of meat wrapped around a skeleton? That's weird."

"Louis." Harry blinks. "Firstly, I'm serious, and secondly, that's disgusting, don't ever say it again."

Louis bites his lip and nods. "Sorry. I've had a few thoughts, yeah."

Harry goes back to chopping carrots, satisfied Louis is taking this seriously now. "Do you want to wait until the summer so that you don't have to play again for a while?"

"No." Louis shakes his head slowly. "No, I don't think that would be best. I think that's going to make it worse. I'll spend the summer hiding and building it all up in my head. It's going to be big news whenever we do it, but I don't want to be the _only_ news. I think we should just do it. Now. Next week. Soon. In the middle of the week, when other stuff is going on and it's just one story in the middle of Champions League fixtures and FA Cup replays and terrible refereeing decisions and everything else."

Harry nods a little and Louis can even tell from the back of his head that he thinks what Louis is saying makes sense. "In that case, you really do need to talk to Liam. Before we go any further."

"Talk to Liam about what?" Liam's suddenly in the kitchen doorway, and Harry gets such a shock he drops the spoon he'd been using to stir the mince and splashes oil back up at himself.

"Jesus Christ, Liam. Ow." He rubs at his chest.

"This is why normal people wear clothes to cook," Louis points out as he crosses the kitchen to kiss Liam hello. "Hi." He can't quite remember when Liam stopped ringing the doorbell and just started letting himself in but he likes it.

"Hi," Liam smiles. "Talk to Liam about what?"

He doesn't look particularly perturbed so Louis thinks that Liam probably has an idea what's coming. "About what would happen if I told everybody. About everything."

He knows that when – if – he comes out then the media will be all over him and it'll be even harder to keep it a secret that Liam's the one he's been seeing. And since this would affect Liam's career too, Liam has to be completely on board. Otherwise no point in doing any of it. But Louis can't just come out and _say_ that or Liam might feel pressured into agreeing.

"Oh," Liam smiles a bit. "You decided you're ready, then. I thought so."

Louis pulls a face. "Well not _decided_ , no. I wanted to talk to you about it before there was an official _decision_. It affects you too."

Liam bites the inside of his cheek. "Not as much as you might think, maybe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Louis is properly frowning now, and takes a step back from Liam only for Liam to follow him forward and wrap an arm around his waist to stop him from getting any further away.

"The thing is," Liam smiles a little bit, trying to reassure Louis that this is a good thing. "I've sort of been offered a new job. Which I haven't accepted yet, by the way. I wanted to speak to you first."

"A new _job_?" Louis can't help the way his voice goes up at the end – he's gobsmacked. He's very rarely speechless but this was not the way he expected this conversation to go. "But you love working at City." Not to mention it'd be harder than ever to excuse all of the time they spend together if Liam's working for a different club.

"I do," Liam agrees. "I wasn't looking for anything. They came to me."

"Will you stop being obtuse and tell me what the bloody job is?" Louis nearly shouts, and then spins around to point at Harry. "You. Did you know about this?"

Harry holds his hands up and turns down the heat on the pan. "Not a clue, mate." He wanders past Louis and pats him on the shoulder. "I'm going to put some clothes on. If you could just give that mince a stir when you've finished shouting at Liam, that would be lovely."

"I wasn't shouting," Louis huffs, and Liam laughs quietly. Louis smiles a little bit. "Go on then. What's the job? Arsenal? Chelsea? Don't say it's United, I don't think I could stand it if you were there."

"Head of physiotherapy for England ladies," Liam smiles. "I would be overseeing the physio teams at all of the women's clubs across the country and then doing the matchday stuff when the national squad are together. It's a massive promotion."

"Ladies?" Louis breathes, and Liam nods. "So you'd be working with girls."

Liam snorts. "You seem to be having trouble understanding the concept of ladies."

Louis rolls his eyes and pushes Liam in the chest. "So are you going to take it?"

"I think the timing is trying to tell me something. If I'm working with the women's team it isn't going affect my job in the slightest if people know about us." He smiles a little bit. "It means you don't have to consider me when you're deciding what to do."

"Then I think both of our decisions just made themselves," Louis grins, twisting out of Liam's arms and crossing the kitchen to stir the bolognese. He can just about manage stirring without burning things. He lifts the lid on the other pan and peers inside. "Should I check if this is done? You're supposed to throw spaghetti at the wall to check if it's cooked, right?"

Liam comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Louis, kissing the back of his neck. "I can't believe you just made this massive decision and you're worried about spaghetti." He slips his hand under the fabric of Louis' shirt, dragging his fingers over his stomach. "And no. I don't think that's really a thing people do."

"Back away from the oven!" Harry calls out as he comes back into the room. "No throwing spaghetti and no groping within a two metre radius of the food, god." He shoos them away and twists a piece of spaghetti around a fork, biting into it. "That's how you test if it's done, idiot."

He starts draining the spaghetti and splitting it out onto plates. "Leave some for Niall," Louis says, and Harry nods and gets out an extra plate. Louis is leaning back on Liam's thighs against the kitchen table and he can feel Liam laughing while they watch Harry spooning sauce on top.

"I thought he was your agent, not your slave," Liam whispers, and Louis laughs too.

"He's both and he knows it."

Harry hands them a plate and fork each and then grabs his own, walking past them and into the living room. "So we've talked about when. What about how?"

Louis follows him and flops down on the sofa with his plate, draping his legs across Liam as soon as Liam is settled. "I think I know what I want, but what do you suggest?"

Harry twists his fork in the spaghetti and ponders that. "I could probably get you on a chat show. Jonathan Ross? Graham Norton?"

Louis shakes his head straight away. "No. Absolutely not. I don't want there to be any opportunity to have words put in my mouth."

"We could provide the questions and say that's all you're allowed to be asked."

"Still no." Louis can't imagine that somebody like Jonathan Ross would stick to that request anyway. And what kind of a dick would it make him look like for demanding it?

"Okay then. You could put a message up online. A video."

"I don't think that's very me."

Harry thinks for a minute. "Gareth Thomas did a-"

"No."

"You didn't let me finish!"

"The Daily Mail, Harry? No!"

"It doesn’t have to be the Mail, I just meant a _paper_ , god." Harry chucks a balled up bit of kitchen roll at his head. "But fine," Harry sighs. "Tell me what you want and I'll sort it."

Louis shoves a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth and takes his time chewing it, not speaking until he's done. "I just want a statement. Just a plain old fashioned statement released to whoever wants it. And I don't want it to go through the club."

Harry frowns. "I think something this big should-"

"I don't care if it gets me into trouble. If we go through them they'll put it through their PR department and it won't go my way at all. The whole point is to do this before anybody else does it for me. We release a statement and I'll deal with the consequences later."

They get done eating just as the doorbell rings, and Louis gets up to answer it while Liam takes the plates into the kitchen. Zayn's standing on the step with a Waitrose carrier bag in his hand and he grins and holds it up. "Harry texted me, said to come over and bring wine. What're we doing?" He steps inside the house past Louis without waiting to be invited in, and Harry beams as they walk back into the living room.

"Zayn, you made it!"

"Wine delivery boy's here, apparently." Louis raises his eyebrows.

Harry sticks his tongue out. "Shut up and get some glasses out." He's found a notepad and a pen from somewhere and he flops down onto the sofa. "We've got a statement to write."

Zayn quickly cottons on to what that means and trails off to help Louis get the glasses from the kitchen. "You're doing this, then."

Louis looks up from the bottle of red that he's just jammed a corkscrew into, trying to read Zayn's expression. "Yep."

"I've got your back, man."

Louis turns his attention back to the bottle and tries to keep from grinning like a loon. This is really happening. "Cheers mate." He gets the cork out and carries the bottle and some glasses back into the lounge while Zayn puts a couple of bottles of white in the fridge. Louis sits mostly in Liam's lap without warning, leaving Liam laughing and settling an arm around his waist.

"There's enough space on the sofa for all of our bums you know," Liam laughs, and Louis grins and wriggles a little.

"Are you complaining?"

Liam curls his hand a little tighter so he has some of Louis' t-shirt in his fist. "No."

It takes them the best part of four hours to write the simple, one paragraph statement. When Niall gets home somewhere around hour two, he gratefully retrieves and reheats the leftover spag bol and helpfully points out that maybe they should have held off on the wine until after they were done writing.

There are scribbles all over the paper by the time they're finished, five different people's handwriting in evidence when Harry takes it back and pulls his laptop from the case. In the same way that there had been something nice about doing it by hand, now that it's time to type it up everything feels very serious. Harry sits down at the kitchen table with his laptop, copying the text from the paper and shouting through into the lounge every now and again when there's something he can't read.

Louis takes advantage of the break to nip upstairs and phone his mum and let her know. He wants her to know this was all his choice rather than her turning on the television tomorrow morning and seeing the story all over Daybreak or BBC Breakfast without warning.

She's pleased and proud and all sorts of other emotions, and he can tell she's trying not to cry. He's glad she doesn't, because now he's actually doing it he's teetering on the edge of tears himself. He says goodbye and promises to forward her a copy of the statement so that she knows what to expect, and heads back downstairs. He drops back down into Liam's lap just as Harry emerges from the kitchen with the laptop and hands it to Louis. "Read it. Check I didn't make any mistakes."

Liam reaches out to take the computer from him and Louis just smiles and settles his head against his boyfriend's neck. His boyfriend. In a few hours he won't have to worry about letting that word accidentally slip out in public.

While they read over the statement Harry ducks into the kitchen to make a call. They've decided to send it just to Sky Sports News because they know from there it will get passed on and picked up by all of the news stations. Harry calls his contact and confirms his identity, letting them know something will be coming through in the next few minutes and that the email's content is definitely genuine. There's not a protocol for the way they're going about this. They're breaking all of the rules and the whole point of writing the statement themselves is to get the story out as quickly as possible. The last thing they need is to have to deal with everybody and their mother asking if it's true.

Once the email is sent, Louis can't sit still. He turns the telly off because he doesn't want to watch the story break. He stands up without saying a word and walks into the kitchen, coming back with the bottle of champagne he'd been given after he was awarded Man of the Match again a couple of games ago. "We're drinking this."

He pops the cork and suddenly starts to laugh. One way or another, everything is going to change tomorrow. This could well be the last Man of the Match award he ever gets. Liam gets it, opening a cupboard and lifting out five champagne flutes. As he hands them round, Louis fills each glass and then sets the almost-empty bottle down on the table.

"Cheers, lads."

_While I'd like to believe that my private life is something I can keep for my closest friends and family, I realise that in today's climate it's an unrealistic wish. To be at the top of my game I feel that it's important to be fulfilled personally as well as professionally, and that means not hiding any more. Homophobia on the terraces is something that's almost seen as acceptable still, and it's the only place that's true. I hope that this is something that we can all work to improve in the same way we're striving to kick racism out of football and that in the not too distant future other gay players won't feel pressured to pretend the way I have these last few years. – LT x_

Louis wakes up early the next morning. It's not even seven and it's still dark outside – he doesn't remember the last time he woke up this early without an alarm. When he checks his phone, he has voicemails and missed calls and texts and emails and god knows what else. A lot of them are from various people at the club demanding he comes in for a 'crisis management' meeting. He logs out of Twitter without checking his mentions and uninstalls the app to try and stop himself being tempted to look. Liam stirs beside him and Louis smiles as he just turns over and goes back to sleep. They kept Liam's name out of the story on purpose for now, until Liam hands in his notice at least.

There's a quiet knock on his bedroom door and Harry pokes his head into the room. "Good, you're awake." He waves his phone. "We're being summoned. There's a sea of photographers outside though – ready to put the plan into action?"

Louis nods. "I'll wake Liam up."

"I'll get the others ready." Harry's head disappears from sight and it's just as he's closing the door behind him that Louis catches a glimpse of his bare backside and sighs.

"For crying out loud, Harry, put some clothes on!"

He hears Harry cackling from outside and for some reason it's that rather than Louis yelling that wakes Liam up. He opens one eye and stretches as he looks up at Louis. "Are we on?"

Louis nods. "We're on."

When Louis is dressed and Liam is in the shower, he finally takes the plunge and slides two fingers between his curtains so that he can peek outside. Harry wasn't kidding; there are photographers absolutely everywhere and at least two TV outside broadcast vans clogging up the street. His neighbours are going to hate him.

The five of them meet in the kitchen. Louis had made sure all of the blinds were closed before he went to bed because he really doesn't trust the press as far as he can throw them. He wouldn't have been at all surprised to find at least one of the paps had vaulted his back fence to try and get pictures of a romantic liaison in the kitchen.

Harry looks more professional than Louis has seen him in ages. He's wearing a smart pair of trousers and a shirt, and a dinner jacket that he must have left behind when he stayed over after the end of year awards ceremony before Christmas. Niall and Zayn are wearing training kit, and it makes Louis wonder exactly how much Harry had told Zayn before he arrived if he'd known to bring his kit and not just the wine.

They find themselves standing in a circle and Louis grins and puts his arm out, his hand in a fist. "Well lads. I really appreciate this." The fact that Zayn is awake at this time of day means more than almost anything else they've done for him in the last twenty-four hours.

Niall grins and reaches out to bump his fist against Louis'. "Don't be daft, of course we're here."

Zayn nods and copies him, and Harry and Liam follow suit without speaking either until all five of them have their hands piled up in the centre of the circle. Louis looks around at all of them and his stomach feels a bit unsettled but he'd been expecting to get hit with a feeling of _oh god what have I done?_ and it's just not there at all.

"I love you boys," he grins. "Liam the most, obviously, but the rest of you are pretty great too."

Harry snorts and grabs his things and his keys. He's going out first. Nobody's going to be surprised to see Harry leaving Louis' house this morning. And now the word is out it's unlikely that many people would be surprised if they announced it's Harry that Louis is dating. They're pictured together all the time as it is.

Louis makes himself some tea in his travel mug and paces around while the other lads leave one at a time. Once Harry's in his car, Zayn goes out. Louis wishes he could see the faces on the photographers when they realise the most useful shot they're going to get is a picture of him with a mug of tea that they could get any day of the week. They're not going to suspect Zayn's his secret boyfriend, but one of the trashier papers like the Mirror or the Sun might decide to print a story about Zayn and Louis hooking up behind Perrie's back. Or even better, they might suggest that they're having a threeway relationship because Louis being gay probably isn't quite scandalous enough for them.

He hears Zayn start up his car and Liam leaves next. Louis moves to sit at the bottom of the stairs and he can see the flashes reflected in the mirror as Liam gets into his car and goes. It's possible Liam will get some attention from this, but the point is that nobody will be able to prove anything.

Niall goes last, giving Louis a quick hug before he heads outside. Again Louis sees the cameras flashing and he laughs as he hears Niall shout good morning to all of them before he starts his own car. Niall living with Louis puts him in line for some speculation too, but Louis knows Niall couldn't give a stuff what people say. He'd probably quite happily snog Louis in the middle of the pitch just because he felt like it.

Finally the only thing Louis can hear is the hum of Harry's car in the driveway, waiting for him to lock up and get into the passenger seat. He takes his tea with him and takes his time setting the alarm before he finally steps outside and pulls the door closed behind him. Once he's locked it he turns around, giving the photographers a quick smile and a wave before he hops into the car and that's it. Harry pulls the car out of the driveway as soon as Louis has yanked the door closed, not even waiting for him to click his belt into place.

"Okay?" Harry glances at Louis out of the side of his eye. "That was mental."

"Yeah," Louis breathes, both answering the question and agreeing with Harry's assessment.

–

The meeting with the club could go better, but it also isn't a total disaster. Louis sits there mostly in silence while he gets a proper bollocking from the Chief Exec for going rogue, and Harry argues back that it's really none of the club's business. "Zayn and Perrie didn't have to come through you when they announced their engagement or for the magazine deal for their wedding pictures."

"That's different," is the Chief Exec's only argument to that, but they all know that he can't explain _why_ it's different without venturing into dangerous territory. The only time Louis speaks at all is to assure them his mind is on the game and this isn't going to affect how he plays. Louis is thankful that they believe him and they let him leave without encouraging him to take a break for personal reasons. The possibility of them doing that was something he'd really been worried about.

When the meeting is over it's time for Louis to go straight to training and for once he's particularly glad that the photographers and local news cameras aren't allowed inside the training ground any more.

If he's honest, walking into the dressing room is the only part of all this he's really shitting himself about. He's expecting to get a rough time from the crowd for a while, but he has absolutely no idea what kind of reaction he's going to get from the rest of the players. If the majority of his team-mates aren't on his side then it really could be the beginning of the end of his playing days.

When he first started playing professionally there was a lot of homophobic banter in the dressing room and he'd had to work hard to ignore it. It was mostly the older players, the ones who'd been in the game for a long time and had probably picked it up from the generation before. He's noticed a big change in attitude just over the last couple of years, though. It's as if people have quietly realised the things they were saying aren't appropriate. A lot of the lads probably have gay friends or relatives and if you wouldn't say something to their faces, why would you say it in a sweaty room with a group of half naked lads?

But just because they've stopped saying that kind of thing out loud doesn't mean that their actual opinions have changed.

He only needs to swap his trainers for his boots. He's already wearing his kit, so it can be a quick in and out if it needs to be. He's standing outside with his hand on the door, steeling himself to open it and go in, when someone claps a hand on his back.

"You going in or what?" Niall doesn't wait for an answer, he just pushes at the door and walks inside. Louis realises it's now or never; if he lets the door swing closed in his face he might as well just turn around and go home.

Niall's already got one shoe off by the time Louis walks inside. Zayn's in there already too, sitting on the bench while he ties his laces. He looks up and grins at Louis, and then turns his attention back to his boots.

Louis has no idea what to expect. He's been running various scenarios through his head all morning, from deafening silence to getting punched to the occasional moments where he dares imagine they might all give him a hug. Getting no reaction at all was not one of the things he'd pictured, but that's more or less what happens. By the time he crosses the room to his usual spot beside Zayn and kicked off both of his trainers he's wondering if maybe somehow none of them have been on Twitter or turned the radio on this morning. If he hadn't just spent an hour practically being reprimanded for making his announcement the way that he did he might have wondered if he'd actually dreamt the whole thing.

"Afternoon, Tommo!" Somebody shouts it out. Louis can't quite tell who said it but it doesn't really matter because seconds later there's a rolled up pair of socks flying at his head and everything feels normal. People making jokes about Louis being late and having things thrown at him is exactly how it was yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.

He retrieves the socks from the floor and smells them. "Johnno, these are dirty. That's foul." He chucks them back and lets himself look around the room. "You can't just go around chucking dirty socks at a bloke."

"What, just because you're a poof now I have to start behaving properly? Where's the fun in that?"

Louis feels Zayn tense up beside him and Louis puts a hand on his arm to let him know he can relax, it's okay. He's known Johnno for years, from the England Under 21s even before Louis came to City, and Louis knows he doesn't mean anything by it – he's just trying to break the ice.

"Thing is, Johnno, I've always thought your feet honk, actually. I've just never mentioned it before. I'm full of revelations today!"

Slowly the conversations start up around the room again and he finishes doing up his boots. He looks around, and he can tell by some of their faces that not all of the lads are okay with it but it doesn't look like they're likely to say anything while he's got enough of the team on his side. And as long as they don't stop passing the ball to him when he's on the pitch he doesn't really give a shit what they think.

By the time he gets home the paparazzi are well and truly camped outside his house with no plans to leave by the looks of it. He'd had the tiniest bit of hope that maybe they'd have got bored during the day when he was at training, but no such luck. Still, he'd known all along things were likely to play out this way. He takes Harry's advice without complaining for once and plays nice.

"Pizza, boys?" Louis steps outside in his trackies when he sees the Domino's van pull up along the street. He meets the delivery boy at the gate and exchanges a decent tip for the stack of pizza boxes and then sets them on the ground at the edge of his driveway. "Wasn't sure what you liked so I got a bit of everything." He flips open the top box and grins. "This one's mine."

He walks back inside with his pizza, shutting the front door firmly and peeking between the curtains to watch what happens. Most of them still have their cameras trained on his front door as if they're expecting this to be some kind of diversionary tactic. When he doesn't come back out they start to cave, one by one, until the pizza boxes are being passed around and Louis feels himself relax a bit.

It irritates him that part of the reason he did this whole thing was so that he could stop hiding, so that he and Liam could _both_ stop hiding and yet here he is, trapped in his house watching repeats of Top Gear on Dave. But he also knows it could be worse. They've agreed it's safest if Liam doesn't come over until the interest has died down a bit but at least Louis knows he's still just on the other end of the phone.

The rest of the week follows a similar pattern. Escape the paps in the morning, go to training, hang around the training ground as long as he can get away with, come home. Once he's home he showers and gets into bed to call Liam, talk about their day quickly turning into talk about what's on telly and eventually it always turns into not even talking at all. Louis closes his eyes and tries to pretend Liam's breathing is coming from the bed beside him rather than from Liam's house across town.

"I made a little replica of you," Louis mumbles into the handset. "Stuffed a pillowcase and put one of your shirts on it. Your boxers too. Tried to draw a face but couldn't accurately capture your beautiful chiselled features."

There's a silence on the other end of the line before Liam half-squeaks his reply. "Really?"

Louis laughs. "No, are you mad? I'm not a complete crackpot."

Liam cracks up. "Oh, thank God. I thought you'd really truly lost it."

"Not yet," Louis smiles. "Might do soon, though."

There are photographers outside Liam's house too. And Harry's, and Zayn's, and his mum's as well. It's frustrating, but they all keep insisting that they don't care. Louis suspects some of the paps must have cloned themselves for there to be enough of them to hang around literally everywhere they think he might be hiding a secret boyfriend. And that's not even including the three or four who tail him to work every day in case he's having a secret rendezvous between home and the training ground, presumably.

There are less of them at Liam's house than Louis has outside his, but it's still enough for it to be out of the question for Louis to sneak back there for an hour or two after training. Which is how it gets to Thursday night and Louis finds himself lying back on the physio table in Liam's office while Liam sucks him off.

"We're going to have to get this thing sterilised before your replacement starts," Louis pats the table with one hand and tangles the other in Liam's hair.

"I'm going to have to get this thing sterilised before _tomorrow_ ," Liam points out, pulling off long enough to reply and laughing as Louis whimpers and tries to guide his head back down. "I've got Zayn in here first thing."

"Please don't talk about Zayn while your mouth is on my dick," Louis groans. "It's off-putting."

"You started it."

Louis leaves Liam's office in a much better mood than when he entered, Liam's little whispered declarations of love and pride enough to give Louis some of his strength back. Liam is handing in his notice on Monday, and then there's a real tangible countdown to the point when they don't need to care if they're seen together. Liam will work the rest of the season at City but once he's told them he's accepted the new job he'll be in his official four week notice period. If it's anything like the way things worked when Liam took this job, the club will use that time to find a replacement. It'll probably be Graham because it makes sense to promote from within, so once the month is up Liam's workload will be scaled back. Most of his time after that will be spent training Graham – or whoever – rather than being in direct contact with the players.

Louis has four weeks from Monday marked on his phone calendar with three exclamation marks and a little heart.

For now, he only has one more obstacle to get past. Saturday will be the first match since the statement went out and it's at Anfield. He's finally decided that it's probably a good thing the first match is an away game. He's gone back and forth about his opinion on this, it's been one of the main topics of his nightly chats with Liam but he's finally come down on the side of being glad about it. The majority of the crowd will be hostile but they always are at Liverpool, that's just to be expected, and it means there's a better chance the thousand or so City fans tucked into the corner will be totally supportive instead of split like they would at the Etihad. They can make fun of their own but they won't be having any of it if the home fans try anything nasty.

Louis is repeating that fact to himself as he lines up in the tunnel, holding the hand of the little girl chosen to be today's mascot. He just needs to act the same way he normally would.

It's probably quite fitting that it's Liverpool, really. When the handshakes are done and the photographs have been taken, the crowd starts to sing You'll Never Walk Alone. He knows that they do this at every game. He's played here enough times before, he knows what it's like, he knows this is their thing but this time it feels like they're singing it just for him and it's nearly too much for him right there. He turns to the dugout, making it look as if he's checking for last minute instructions from the gaffer but his eyeline is slightly to the left of the manager and his eyes finally settle on Liam. Liam is sitting in his place on the bench, bag between his feet and he's grinning at Louis. Beaming would probably be a better word for it actually. He gives him a thumbs up and Louis grins back, turns back to the ball and waits for Liverpool to kick off.

He can do this.

And it turns out he can. It would be an exaggeration to say he has his best game ever, that he plays out of his skin or any of the other hyperbolic football clichés that he's heard so many times before. But he has a good, solid game. He makes a brilliant goal line clearance from a Jordan Henderson shot when it gets a deflection and Johnno is wrong-footed and stranded too far out. He makes three or four key tackles and wins the ball cleanly every time. He does his job and he does it well.

He goes to take a throw in and bends over to pull his socks up where his shin pads are dragging them down. He hears jeering from the crowd and slowly the chorus of " _Louis Tommo – takes it up the arse_ " to the tune of Yellow Submarine gets louder until it feels like the whole of the Kop is singing it. They probably are.

He takes his time drying the ball on his shirt and before he takes the throw he turns to the crowd and cups his fingers to his ear, smiling. "Is that the best you can do?" he shouts, still smiling, and then turns back to take the throw in. The chant dies out a bit when they realise it isn't bothering him and then tails off altogether when Zayn puts the ball in the net five minutes later and Louis finds himself in the middle of a pile of celebrating bodies.

They win 4-1 in the end, and Louis makes a point of going over to the away end and applauding the travelling fans. He always does that anyway but it feels more important today. Most of them are still there and he can hear them singing his name as he walks over. He knows what football fans are like and he's glad that today has proved it – that they don't really care what you do in your private life as long as you aren't smashing up cars and disgracing the club in your spare time. As long as you give your all when you're on the pitch or representing the squad then they've got your back, and Louis knows he definitely does that.

He's the last one off the pitch and Liam is waiting for him just inside the tunnel. "You'll never walk alone," he says, trying to keep a straight face as he nods sagely.

Louis snorts and pushes him in the shoulder. "Cheesy fucker."

Liam breaks out into a grin he can't keep in any longer. "Yep." He chews on his lip like he's thinking about something and then reaches out and joins their hands. "Screw the countdown. Screw waiting four weeks, screw waiting four _hours_ , Louis. I don't care who sees." He leans in and presses a kiss to Louis' lips and Louis instinctively settles his arms around the back of Liam's neck as he kisses back. This moment makes everything worth it.

"What's that line," Louis murmurs, resting his forehead against Liam's. "The famous one that Shankly said. About football being more important than life?"

"'Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.'" Liam supplies. They both know it's still not exactly the right words, but it's close enough. "Why?"

"I've always sort of agreed with him," Louis shrugs and smiles up at Liam. "But I'm starting to think that there just might be one or two things more important than the beautiful game after all."

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the lyrics of You'll Never Walk Alone :) 
> 
> _When you walk through the storm hold your head up high and don't be afraid of the dark. At the end of the storm there's a golden sky and the sweet silver song of the lark._


End file.
